Keystone
by Martienne
Summary: He could never forget her, and his memories were the keystone in the center of everything he was. Yet it is said we are not human beings but human becomings. Leonard Church was no exception.
1. Chapter 1

**Keystone is a new draft of Leonard Church's life story that will draw from text that formerly appeared in my previous works, _White Knight_ and _Dark Night._ Though I have worked hard on that version of his biography in the last four years, I have realized I need to update the events to align with canon. I hope you will enjoy this reimagining of his tale.**

**Warnings include mentions of rape and child abuse. Neither situation is explicitly depicted in this fic.**

* * *

**_Part I: White Knight_**

"Leonard, come on. Get out and give me a hand, please."

Leonard looked at his father through the open window of the moving van before dragging his hand over to the door handle. He'd been sitting there ever since they'd arrived, when they had backed into the driveway. He didn't want to be here.

He slowly got out of the truck and stretched, arching his back slightly, staring without emotion at the houses that lined the street. The occasional broken window, maybe a tarp for a patch on someone's roof, even the lack of many flowers that weren't weeds in people's yards, showed that it wasn't in the nicest area of town. Things hadn't been much different back home in Atlanta, but he didn't appreciate being uprooted like this, even if his father had waited to arrange the move for after summer break had started. According to his father it was going to be a new beginning, new town, new life; new school, now that he was going to be starting high school. But he didn't want any part of it.

He went to the back of the truck, sighed heavily, and picked up the first box he came to. "Where do I put this, Dad?"

"Whatever room it's labeled for." His father approached and checked the grease-pencil scrawl on the side. "It's your stuff. Put it in the back bedroom."

He headed into the house, listening to his feet treading on the floorboards. It was different living in a house—in Atlanta they'd living in an attached condo, in a busier neighborhood. He set the box down in the far corner when he reached his bedroom and went over to the window to gaze out of it blankly. It was kind of cool that there was a backyard here. Not that that made being here any better.

On his fourth trip he heard a sound as he walked down the hall to his room—a scrape, and then a thump. What was _that_? He sped up a bit, then stopped at the doorway.

Someone was climbing through the window.

It was teenage girl. She was halfway through, pushing herself over the sill. Her blonde hair hung like a curtain as she struggled, blocking her view of him. She didn't spot him until she came to a standing position. Her blue eyes went wide and she pushed her hair back from her face. He was shocked, remaining where he stood, not reacting, merely staring at her.

She glanced back at the window, then trained her gaze on him with a frown. "Who are you?"

He scoffed, shifting the box he'd been carrying to angle himself toward her slightly. "Who am _I_? What are you doing in my bedroom?"

She crossed her arms. "Hey, shut up. This house was vacant last I knew."

He rolled his eyes. "How'd you miss the moving truck in the driveway?" He set the box aside, dropping it more than anything else, as he placed it on the floor. "Nice way to introduce yourself to the new neighbors, by the way."

"I'll introduce myself any way I want to." She was clearly over the shock of finding someone inside the house now. "Now when I want to avoid spending time at home I'll have to go somewhere else. Thanks a lot."

"Don't blame me," he said. "Now are you planning to leave, or do I need to make you help me with moving in?"

"Can't _make_ me do anything, jackass." She pushed her hair back off her forehead and looked at him more closely. "I'm Allison, by the way."

"Leonard," he replied, a bit begrudgingly. "Don't think you can get on my good side just 'cause you decided to be all friendly all of a sudden."

"Whatever." She turned around and hopped back out the window.

He went over to it to try to spot her, then turned to head back out to the truck. She was already gone. This had been the first thing about this neighborhood that had made him just a little bit curious, and he glanced around when he returned to the truck to see if maybe she had come around the house to the street.

"What is it?" his dad asked, spotting his son from the loading bay of the truck.

Leonard looked at his dad. "Oh…nothing." He gave one more glance up and down the street before he reluctantly returned to doing the work of moving in.

It wasn't until two days later that he saw her again. It turned out that she lived across the street. She exited her house as he was shooting baskets into the decrepit rim that was attached to the front of the carport. Light-footed, she ran over, crossed the drive behind him, scooped up the ball mid-dribble and took a three-point shot. He gave her a look and chased after the ball. It bounced out of his grasp and she got a hold of it once again.

"Too slow!" she taunted. "You need to do better than that!"

He was used to only needing his height advantage to compete against others his age, but he found she was right. She was too nimble for him to keep up with her. But he couldn't let her think he was going to roll over and let her win. "You're so slow it looks like you're going backwards," he taunted back.

She laughed harder at his remark, proving him wrong by immediately stealing the ball again. Now he was determined—he was going to get that ball before her, one way or another.

They played ball until the sun got to be high in the sky and they were both covered in sweat. "Hey," he finally panted. "Hey, it's time for a break. Let's get something to drink."

"You just want to stop because you're losing," she teased.

"I'm not losing," he scoffed. "I've just been distracted 'cause of the sun."

She laughed. "That doesn't mean you're not losing."

He rolled his eyes. "You want a drink or what?"

"I don't need you to give me a drink."

But she willingly followed him into the house, accepting the cup of water he offered her. She gulped it down before they headed back out.

"Where are you from, anyway?" she asked later on, watching him stumble as he tried and failed to learn a new trick on his skateboard.

He glanced over at her before returning his attention to not falling and cracking his head open. "What?"

"Your accent. Where are you from?"

_Home_. That was the answer he wanted to give. As fun as it was getting to know her, and as much as he preferred the weather here, it still wasn't home. "You're the one with an accent, idiot," he said instead.

She rolled her eyes. "You're such an ass, Leonard."

He started to roll past her. She stuck her foot out to shove at his skateboard. He lost his balance, wavering in one direction before falling in the other. She took that opening, grabbing the skateboard and pushing off after she got her foot on it.

"Bitch!" He nearly ran after her, but instead he stood up, checked his hands for scrapes, and watched her. She was better than him. He hated that he was already getting used to that.

"The hell are you looking at?" she taunted as she returned. She flipped the skateboard up and held it.

"Nothin'," he said, a little too quickly. She gave him a dead-eyed stare. "_Nothing_," he insisted.

She grinned, but she also shook her head and dropped his skateboard so it could roll over to him and hit him in the ankle. "You really are an idiot, Leonard."

It was dusk then, and he wasn't surprised when she followed him inside. "Wanna watch something?" he asked, going over and touching the computer terminal in the wall. Even in a neighborhood like this the screens were standard in every home, though quite a bit smaller.

She approached the terminal so she could look at the choices. "Only if you let me pick."

"It's my house," he said.

"I'm the guest." She elbowed in beside him and made a selection. Already, he'd gotten used to letting her have her way about things; he shoved against her arm but didn't protest further.

His father arrived not long after they'd settled on the couch and he smiled at the two as he entered. "Hello there," he said.

"Oh, hi Dad." Leonard looked at the girl who sat beside him. "This is Allison. She lives across the street."

"Hi, Allison. I'm Lawrence." It was easy to see the resemblance between father and son. With his narrow jaw and green eyes, Lawrence Church looked like an older version of his son, but with sandy blond hair rather than Leonard's black hair. He set his briefcase down and headed toward the kitchen, still in his shirt and tie. "Are you two hungry?"

"Yeah." Leonard looked at Allison. "How about you, you hungry?"

"Yeah." She was sunken into the couch, and she flexed to sit up a little higher.

Lawrence paused in the doorway to the kitchen. "Do you need to let your parents know where you are?"

"Oh," she said dismissively. "Nobody cares what time I get in."

"You might be surprised," Lawrence said.

She snorted. "No, I wouldn't. They don't even miss me if I stay out all night."

Leonard looked over at her. He secretly thought that was kind of cool. She could stay out all night if she felt like it and not get into trouble. He wasn't going to say that, though. "For real?" he asked instead.

"I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true." She got up and moved away from him, toward the kitchen. "I've never gotten in trouble for staying out yet. What are we having?"

"Beef noodles," Lawrence said. "Do you get a lot of this kind of thing at home?"

"Nah," she said. "Frozen dinners and soup. It's easier. My mom doesn't cook."

Lawrence glanced over at her. "Sounds like you have a lot of freedom."

"Hell yeah, I do. It's awesome."

"Sounds like it," Lawrence said. Leonard was pretty sure his father didn't actually mean that. He might leave Leonard to his own devices while he was at work but there was no way he'd be allowed to stay out overnight. "It looks like there are usually a lot of people over there, aren't there?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, mom's always got someone hanging out. Why?"

"Just something I noticed."

After that he dropped the topic of her home life. The three of them talked until late, mostly about the move and what it had been like living in Atlanta.

"Hey, so," she said when they were done eating. "I don't want to stay too late."

"I thought it didn't matter," Leonard said.

"Too late for you," she clarified. She shot Leonard a smirk. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye." Leonard watched her leave and turned to his dad. "I think she made that up, about being able to stay out."

"I don't," Lawrence said quietly.

"Why do we have to play basketball all the time?" he complained. They'd been playing all morning and he'd lost his patience with it once she had won her fourth game of Horse. "Let's go for a walk."

"You're just mad you lost again," she said. "Where do you think we'd go?"

"I don't know, isn't there some place you like to go? You're the one who talks about how much time you _don__'__t_ spend at home."

She shook her head at him. "Yeah, I know a place," she said. "The kids play kickball there."

"So? Let's go." He let the basketball roll into the carport and he let her lead the way.

The problem with this idea was he was bored within about ten minutes. "Is this the most interesting thing there is to see? This sucks."

"_No_," she said. "Ask nicely and maybe I'll show you something better."

"Just fucking do it, you're bored too."

"Not if you're going to be this big of a pissbaby over it." She turned her back and started walking. "Follow me and don't tell anyone where we're going."

He started to trail along behind her. "Who am I going to tell? These kids?"

"I mean your dad." She let him catch up before continuing. "It's a secret."

He rolled his eyes. "I get the picture."

Their destination was several blocks away. She waved off his attempts to get her to tell where they were going. It wasn't until they picked their way past a dilapidated board fence that she volunteered any information. "It's a little run-down, so be careful."

He looked at the house she'd brought him to. "Run-down? It's falling down," he said. "What the hell are we doing here?"

"Nah, it's not. It only looks that way." The board over the front door was loose and she squeezed through the space. He watched her disappear from his sight. After hesitating for a minute, he followed.

"What took you so long?" she asked him.

"I just didn't know…" He interrupted himself. "What is this place?"

"It's my hideout." The windows were covered with boards like the front door had been, so slivers of light were all that illuminated the room from the edges of the panes. "It's pretty cool. Much more private than your place was. I'm going to bring some stuff here, make it nice."

There was no way to make this nice; it was still a condemned house no matter how cool she tried to say it was. He let her guide him through the rooms, realizing she was letting him into something private. He just bet that she'd never shown anyone else this space. He looked over at her. They were friends, like real friends. When had that happened?

Eventually they climbed back through the gap and brushed the musty, dusty smell of the house off of themselves in the summer sunshine. After that they walked around the neighborhood for hours. Then they headed back to his house and took up their usual places on the couch to watch something. It wasn't until late that Lawrence came home that night. Allison had dozed off to sleep. "Hey," Leonard said, giving her a nudge. "Dad's home."

Lawrence shook his head with a little click of his tongue. "It's okay. Let her sleep."

Leonard looked from his father to the sleeping girl. "You mean let her stay here overnight?"

"That's what I mean." His dad set his briefcase on the kitchen counter. "You see how much time she spends here. Don't you think that's for a reason?"

"Yeah, sure." He remembered that conversation, a couple of weeks back. He looked at her again. Her pale eyelashes were splayed on her cheeks, and her blonde hair trailed down each shoulder. She looked so different, so peaceful, this way. "So you think that's true? About how she doesn't need to come home?"

"Head on to bed,'' Lawrence said. "I'll take care of it if anything comes out of it."

"Yeah, okay," Leonard said, still just a touch confused. But if his dad thought it was a good idea, it was best just to roll with it. He headed back to his bedroom.

It turned out Lawrence was right—Allison's mother simply didn't seem to care. She thanked him when he went over to tell her that Allison had stayed over, and that was it. After that Allison crashing out on the couch became commonplace.

One evening she came over with a pack of cards. He turned on some music, and they settled in on the floor to use the coffee table to lay the cards on. "Let's play Slapjack," she suggested.

He shrugged. "Sure." He watched her as she dealt out half the cards to him, her hair flopping over her shoulder as she moved her arm back and forth. As they started to play he considered how to open the conversation. "You have a lot of stuff going on, huh? At home?"

She laid down her cards one at a time, not looking at him. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Hey, that's cool." He turned up a jack and slapped at the card, wincing when her hand landed on top of his. "That one's mine."

She pushed the pile in his direction. "I don't talk about that stuff. It's nobody's business."

He laid down a card. "Sure you do. I mean, you told Dad about some of it."

She waved off his words. "I didn't tell him anything that people don't already know."

"Oh. Okay." He had a slight frown on his face and glanced at her as he alternated laying his cards down with hers.

She nudged his hand. "Hey, watch yourself," she said, teasing just a bit. "I just don't put up with it, that's all. Like, there was this one time when I was a kid—the school counselor tried to get me to tell him about something that happened and I just kicked him in the shin and ran off."

"Why'd you do that?" he asked.

She kept her gaze on the cards, quickly slapping the pile when another jack turned up. "Because it was my problem, not his."

He shook his head. Even when she couldn't handle things, shouldn't have to, she handled them anyway. He wondered why she was like that.

She gestured at him. "Hey, can you get me another soda?" she asked.

He reached over to where they sat on the floor, between the table and the couch. His leg brushed against hers when he moved and he glanced at her as he returned to a sitting position and handed her a bottle. She took it, moving away from him slightly. "It's hot," she said, uncapping it and taking the first swallow.

"Yeah," he said, choosing to turn and take one for himself.

The conversation meandered then, and they were having fun, but he couldn't keep his mind off of her problems. The next time a jack turned up he didn't notice and she smacked his hand after smacking the stack of cards. She laughed. "Pay attention, idiot," she said. "You don't even care about the game, come on."

"Hey," he complained, his hand tingling from the strike. "I am paying attention."

"No, you're not." She grabbed his cards to shuffle and deal them back out.

She was right. He was sitting there thinking about her home life, all the details she refused to tell him. Why she was always running, why she'd chosen him to run to. He accepted the cards that she handed him and they started in playing another round.

"Come on, Leonard," she laughed after the round was over. "You're not getting into it."

He shrugged. "I don't want to play anymore."

"Oh, you're being such a pussy," she said. She picked up the stack of cards and started flicking them out in his direction. "Come on, Leonard. Pick 'em up."

"Aw, fuck," he groused. "Why'd you do that?" He pushed the cards back at her. "You're being an asshole. Stop it."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Then stop asking me about shit."

He didn't know she'd been doing that on purpose, but he knew now that he'd overstepped his bounds. What was it that made her wall that part of her life off from him—from everyone? He glanced away, then focused his gaze on her, worried and somehow feeling protective of her, not knowing what it was she even needed protection from.

Her expression hardened even more, her mouth set. "Stop looking at me like that." She tossed her head and rose to her feet, leaving her cards behind. "Forget it, I'm out."

He watched her go. He wished he could take it back, but he didn't realize what he'd done. Not until later. She was smart, she'd seen it in his eyes, what he didn't even know was happening.

It was stupid, they were only fourteen, but that was the night he started to fall in love with her.

After that she never came to stay the night anymore.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Rainy Season - Seam  
_When they first meet she has to worm her way into his heart, but once she's there he knows she'll never leave_

Alison's Starting to Happen - The Lemonheads  
_Leonard's young but the more he learns about Allison the more he starts to fall for her_

Sweet Child Of Mine - Luna (cover)  
_Their young summer together becomes a special memory to Leonard and a defining period of his life_


	2. Chapter 2

"What's going on?" Allison shoved in the front door and came to stand before Leonard, shoulders square, feet planted, impatient and demanding. "Where are you going?"

The look he gave her was part confused, part surprised. This had been the plan ever since they'd moved here. His father had always worked hard, and the move to Austin had been meant to improve their station in life. He'd gotten a job here with a prestigious architectural firm, with a significant pay raise from what he'd been earning in Atlanta. It had taken Lawrence just a couple of months to find a house that better met their needs in a somewhat nicer neighborhood. Now with the summer drawing to a close, they were making a quick work of moving again. Leonard was once again stuck with half of the task of moving their things, a box at a time, into a truck. He'd never made a point of telling her about it explicitly, but he also couldn't believe she'd never overheard any of the conversations about it. Even if most of the talk had taken place after she'd stopped spending so much time there.

"We're moving," he said, in a tone that covered up his discomfort with deadpan sarcasm. "That's what that truck is for."

She just shook her head, shooting him a dirty look. "People usually tell their _friends_ about that kind of stuff," she grumbled.

"I didn't think he needed your permission," he said. He was glad to know she cared about it, and he did feel bad that she'd evidently missed that fact. Though as he saw it, if she hadn't worked it out, it was her own fault—they never had fully unpacked.

"That's not what I said, jackass." She turned around, leaving in some other direction from her house.

"Allison!" he called after her. "Hey, come back!" But she wasn't that easily dissuaded when she decided to beat a retreat. And he knew attempting to chase her would do him no good. She was in better shape than him, and she knew the neighborhood a lot better.

"Goddamn it," he muttered.

"What was that?" Lawrence asked, returning to the house from inside the moving truck.

Leonard shook his head with a touch of exasperation. "Allison's just being a drama queen about us moving."

"She has a right to be upset," Lawrence said, turning to look at that house across the street. "You just let her know where we'll be living and make sure she knows I'm okay with her dropping by whenever she likes, okay?"

"Yeah. Next time I see her." Leonard worried he wouldn't see her again, though. They'd be finishing removing their things from the house in the morning and then they'd be gone.

He was in the kitchen later that evening when he heard it—footfalls on the porch. It was dark out. Only one person would be on their porch this late at night. He set down his takeout meal and stepped out the door, into the muggy Texas night. He gazed at the house across the street. There was nobody outside, but the lights were on and he could hear the bass pulsing from the music that was playing inside.

He didn't look around for her. He just started talking.

"I don't want to move away. But there's nothing I can do about it. If you're going to be pissed at me over it, that's your problem."

A shadow moved before him; Allison was in front of him, and she gave him a shove. Before he'd realized what was happening he had sprawled backwards, falling flat on his ass. He tried to sit up, tried to speak, but she jabbed his shoulder with her foot, causing him to fall back again.

"I fucking hate you," she hissed. Then she fled, dissolving into the night like a ghost.

He scowled after her, hunching with his arms around his knees before springing to his feet. Well, what the fuck ever. It wasn't as though he'd promised her he'd stick around. And she hadn't given him the chance to tell her where they were moving. Well, that was on her head.

Leonard stepped off the bus and up to his front porch, slinging off his backpack. He was starting to get used to this new place, but he missed the old one. He could go inside, but he didn't feel like starting on his homework yet. Instead, he picked up his basketball and approached the newly installed hoop, bouncing his ball a couple of times and shooting a basket, which he missed. He gathered up his ball again and dribbled it across the driveway, causing it to ping sharply against the pavement. She would have gotten on his case about missing that basket. As annoying as being teased for something like that was, it seemed far too quiet without her.

He was sitting on the porch seat when his father arrived from work—late, as usual. He was still getting established at the firm and it wasn't unusual for Leonard to be left to his own devices until seven or eight in the evening. "Hey," Leonard said as his father approached.

"Hey, Len. Had any dinner yet?" The answer became clear as he went to open the door. It was still locked.

"Nah. I was just sitting out here." Leonard pushed off the rocker and stood. "Didn't feel like doing anything."

"Which means you haven't done your homework." Lawrence led the way into the house and put his briefcase in the front closet. "You need to make sure you're getting these things done. I'm not going to be here to remind you in the afternoons, you know. You need to take responsibility for it."

He shrugged. "I just wanted to have some fun first."

"Taking a break is okay, but not all afternoon." Lawrence pulled a couple of dinner trays out of the freezer to heat up. They didn't typically keep them on hand, but with the move, the two of them had gotten used to the convenience.

"It wasn't any fun anyway," Leonard grumbled. "Too many little kids around here."

"Maybe Allison can come by this weekend. Have you tried asking her?"

Leonard flopped onto the couch. "She won't talk to me." School had been in session for a month now and he hadn't been able to get a hold of her in that time. They lived close enough that it wouldn't be too strenuous of a walk if she felt like visiting. But she ignored his calls and whenever they passed in the hallways at school she pointedly ignored him there too. She'd even gone out of her way earlier that day to cross the hall when he started to approach. He'd scowled and continued on his way. Well, fine, he thought, if she wanted to be like that. From now on he'd ignore her right back.

Lawrence set the meals on the table. "You can always drop by over there."

"No way, not with the way she's acting." Leonard got up to join his dad. He slouched back in his chair and started mixing his corn into his mashed potatoes up with his fork. Mashed potatoes in frozen meals were always so disgusting.

"Fair enough. Just keep it in mind, though."

Leonard rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned there was nothing _to_ keep in mind. It was all over.

Life went on. Autumn went by, and winter. That February, he tried out for the freshman basketball team, and got picked. Mostly because of his height, he thought. He'd never had the best aim.

They started having practices in the evenings. And he noticed something strange. Allison was always there. She would sit in the top row of the bleachers, doing her homework. Was she there to watch him? He tried waving at her the first couple of times he saw her, but she wouldn't look up. If he tried to approach her before going back to the showers, she would abruptly grab her things and leave. Those times that he saw her looking at him out of the corner of his eye, when he looked up to blatantly catch her looking at him, she flipped him off. Well, that wasn't much of a change—she was just making about as much sense as she ever did. He could go right back to ignoring her if she was going to play that game.

Their first practice game was a scrimmage against the JV team. He was just about as tall as the older guys, but all of them were faster, and stronger, and were better at shooting baskets. And he soon realized that a number of them were bullies. They thought pounding the freshman team into the ground was a great pastime. And the fucking coach seemed to think that was perfectly fine. Leonard lost count of all the fouls the coach should have called on them. Some way to boost team morale.

After the JV team had gotten the chance to grind the freshmen into the floorboards, the coach called the end of practice and went into the locker room. Leonard grabbed his water bottle and towel and was on his way there when a couple of the JV guys blocked his way.

"Look at this guy," one of them said to the other, sneering at him. "You body-checked me, you asshole," he added, putting his hands on Leonard's shoulders and pushing him.

"Hey, Coach was letting you guys get away with anything you wanted, jackass," he countered. "I was just trying to give you a dose of your own medicine."

"Well, why don't you give it another try, maybe I'll be cured," he said sarcastically, giving Leonard another push.

He gritted his teeth. "You asked for it." Leonard wound back his fist and started to let it fly furiously.

Instead the friend of the older boy grabbed his arm and spun him round, catching Leonard by surprise. He punched Leonard in the mouth and the boy who had threatened him in the first place grabbed his basketball shorts and yanked them down. Being socked in the jaw had thrown him for a loop and one hand went to cradle his chin while the other grabbed blindly for the waistband of his shorts. The toolbags who had instigated the whole thing were already running off, laughing like hyenas.

"Hey, you motherfucking cocksuckers!"

Leonard's eyes widened. It couldn't be.

He spun around. It was.

Allison.

Beating the shit out of the guys who had pantsed him.

Watching her fight was truly a thing of beauty. Leonard finished pulling up his shorts and stayed stock-still, amazed at what he was seeing. Allison was faster than the bullies, and she seemed to know how to use their own moves against them, how to predict when their fists were going to fly or when they were going to try to double-team her or grab her from behind. She had them hitting each other at one point until they realized what they were doing and tried to orient themselves. By that time it was too late—she'd come around behind one of them and grabbed his arm, pinning it up behind his back. They were both breathing heavily, exhausted, and his friend made no move to defend him.

"You leave him alone," she growled in his ear, "or you'll answer to me again. Got me?"

"Yeah," he muttered, defeated.

She released his arm. "Get out of my sight."

The two went scrambling for the locker room and he was left alone with her, dabbing at his lip with a finger. He could feel it bleeding.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Next time you better be able to defend yourself, asshole."

Leonard couldn't let that go unchallenged. Was she really assuming he had needed her to intervene? He hardened his face into a haughty expression. "I had it under control, bitch."

"Clearly," she scoffed, walking back to where she had dropped her school bag. "Don't bother to thank me. I won't be there next time."

He probably should have kept his mouth shut, right there. Or even thanked her. But instead he smirked. "What are you talking about, obviously you can't stay away."

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, moron. It's just somewhere for me to be until I have to go home."

He gave her a cocky smile. "Uh-huh, sure. Tell you what… I'll walk you home tonight if you stick around. Bet you will."

She snorted. "Keep telling yourself that, Leonard."

"Just watch," he said. "I'll be back in ten minutes."

Even so, he rushed his way through the shower. Somehow he knew his prediction was wrong. He knew that when he came out of the locker room, she would be gone.

He never saw her at another one of his practices.


	3. Chapter 3

His first mistake had been in volunteering to be a tutor.

After all, he wasn't the most patient of guys. That was part of the reason he wasn't acing the class to begin with. The homework was easy, and it bored him, and he never quite managed to complete it before it was time to turn it in.

Actually, no, his first mistake had been in trying to skate in this class in the first place. He'd just kind of assumed he was getting an A until the midterm report came out and showed a B. And he did have his ambitions, which meant getting all As was important. It was his senior year, after all. Tutoring now was giving him a chance to earn extra credit, but he still had to make sure to do all his work from here on out.

No, wait. His first mistake had been… had been…

"Leonard, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He glanced over at her. One of Allison's eyebrows was raised, and she tapped her paper with her pencil. "You can't let yourself trail off like that when you're explaining this to me."

"I didn't trail off, you're just not paying attention." He shook his head and shifted in his chair to lean a little closer to her. He should have known he'd end up tutoring Allison, of all people. Somehow over their years of high school they had never had a class together, yet they always seemed to pass in the hallways somewhere on the way, always seemed to end up in the same lunch period, and always, always, had this antagonistic kind of friendship, that, well, he didn't even know if _she_ considered it a friendship.

So he didn't understand why, when they sat down next to one another at one of the lab tables and the physics teacher, Mr. Lucci, left them to do their work in order to take care of other errands, Leonard found his hands shaking slightly. He knew he'd developed a little bit of a crush on her, but he didn't know it was like this. It took a lot of his concentration just to breathe normally. Now that he'd moved, she was almost, but not quite, near enough for her leg to brush against his, and she just smelled…really good. Her hair swung down when she leaned forward to write something on her paper and swept lightly against his hand. It was long and silky; he had a momentary urge to pull a lock of it through his fingertips.

At least he had the assurance of knowing that Allison had no idea what he was thinking about. That was something he'd learned somewhere along the way; people have a cognitive bias that other people can read what they're thinking about, but most of the time—

"Leonard, fuck, if you're not going to even listen to what you're saying, why am I here at all?"

Now she was actually getting pretty irritated. He cleared his throat and sat back the way he had been before. "I told you, you're the one that needs to pay some fucking attention. You got that formula written down wrong." He jabbed at her paper with his pencil and gouged it.

She yanked her paper away. "Shut up, asshole." She erased it, started again, rubbed her forehead for a moment. "Show it to me again? I forget the variables."

"Look, right here." He flipped the page of his notebook. Like many of the pages inside, it was already doodled upon, but he simply found a blank spot and started writing the formula out again.

She leaned closer and he couldn't help it, his eyes gravitated toward the collar of her shirt. It had gapped a little lower, just a slight dip, just enough that from this angle—

"Leonard." She pointed at his paper. "Why is my name written here, huh?"

She was laughing now, and he flipped to the next page, irritated, shooting her a glare. "It wasn't."

"Oh, you liar! I saw it." She kicked the toe of her tennis shoe against his ankle. "And don't think I didn't notice you looking down my shirt. You couldn't be more obvious if you tried."

Figured she'd call him out on that. He scowled and pulled his notebook further away to start writing the formula again. "Look, watch me work this problem and you better get it right this time."

The more he tried to button himself down, the worse it got. Now his voice was trembling, just a little, and he was sweating. Was he truly that smitten? He didn't want her to know, didn't want her to keep teasing him about it, because Allison absolutely would hold this over his head and make his life miserable. It wasn't like he could sit here and explain it to her—how he purposely let her tease him so he could hear her laugh, how he felt himself flush just a little when she glanced his way, how jealous he became when he noticed she was on the arm of some other guy.

And judging by the smirk on her face, the way she kept staring at him now, she wasn't fooled for one second. His gaze flickered to hers and he trailed off, a slight frown on his face, and he cleared his throat, looking down at his paper.

"You don't have to be shy, Leonard." Her tone was teasing, but it held a challenge, too, and he knew the smug expression she must be wearing. "Want to share your innermost thoughts?"

"No," he said, angling his head toward her for an instant but not meeting her gaze, returning it to the sheet of paper in front of him. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" She snorted and pushed her arm against his, causing him to leave a slash of graphite on his paper.

"What do you want me to say, Allison?" he asked, this time looking at her, irritated with her for pushing it, asking him to say something when by now he knew full well she had caught on to his infatuation, and he was going to lay his hand on her arm, to meet her shove for shove—

But instead she reeled him in and she was kissing him, or maybe he had kissed her; afterward he could never remember exactly. Now, it wasn't that he was inexperienced. It wasn't like he was going to wait around his whole life for Allison to deign to give him any attention, after all. He'd gone out on plenty of dates, kissed plenty of girls (well, a few) in his time. But it must have been because he'd been anticipating this for so very long, because he pressed into it too eagerly, hands fumbling too awkwardly, to come off as though he knew what he was doing. She chuckled against his mouth and moved her hands around his waist, turning in her chair, and set one of her legs between his knees. He let out a sound, a nervous, shaky, pleased grunt, and this time she laughed openly.

"I didn't know you were so innocent, Leonard," she teased, and pressed back in, taking the lead more firmly now, moving a hand to the back of his head.

No, nope, his first mistake was in letting this happen in an empty physics classroom. He should have asked her out a long time ago and this could be happening somewhere a lot more advantageous, somewhere where she'd let him get away with moving his hands up her waist like _this_, finger at the hem of her shirt as he pushed it out of the way, slide his hands on her skin, oh fuck her skin was so soft and it felt so nice he just wanted to—

"A-hem."

The two of them pulled apart with haste, Leonard guiltily flushing and turning sullenly toward his paper, as though pretending nothing had been seen would somehow fix things. Allison remained in place, sitting upright, coolly crossing her legs.

Mr. Lucci, thankfully, seemed inclined to let the incident pass by. At least it seemed that way when he sat down at his desk and merely raised his eyebrow at them before beginning work on something or other. It wasn't until after Leonard had managed to recover, clearing his throat and shifting back into his chair, that Mr. Lucci arose and handed each of them a piece of paper. "You've been reassigned to another tutor, Allison. Leonard, I'll let you know if I have another student who needs your assistance."

Leonard took the slip quietly, folding it into a square after skimming it over, and stuck it in his pocket. Somehow that extra credit didn't seem so important now.

* * *

In the end it turned out his biggest mistake was in not walking her to her locker.

Leonard maneuvered his car—an older model, in some disrepair, motor growling with the strain of being forced to continue running when it should have long ago given up the ghost—out of the student parking lot, his mind still lingering on the feeling of Allison's lips on his. By the time he'd returned to his locker and gotten his stuff packed for the day, he'd lost track of her. But he figured she couldn't have gotten too far. He knew she didn't have a car of her own, but hopefully she'd used one of the doors on this side—this was the direction her house was in, at least if she still lived in that place. He kept scanning the nearby premises, first as he made his way out to his car, and now as he made his way farther from the building. He couldn't help it—he needed to talk to her about what had happened. Normally, their outward relationship seemed to be all about contention and insults. Now he wanted nothing more than to learn what this would change. Maybe this was the start of a whole new phase for them.

But there was something he just couldn't account for. Why had she taken that risk in the first place? If it weren't for Mr. Lucci's practicality they would have both been in a lot more trouble. At least the teacher had understood how little good assigning in-school suspension for a thing like that would do. But his solution had left Leonard with little choice than to do what he was doing now. There was no way he was going to try to talk to her about this at lunch.

He pulled his car down the street she should have taken to get to her house—hoping to intercept her and offer her a ride—but he didn't see her anywhere. He didn't mean to go as far as her street, but before he knew it he found himself turning the corner. He realized then that he was just going to end up driving all the way to her house, and gave in to the fact that he'd missed her. He pulled his car up in front once he'd arrived and waited a while. He could hear people talking inside. Raucous laughter echoed down the street. He had waited plenty of time for her to appear. _Where is she?_

Leonard rose and walked up the broken concrete walkway to the door. He could see into the room through the storm door. All the shades were down and a couple was draped over each other on the couch, holding beer bottles. The coffee table was covered in ashtrays and discarded packages of food. He knocked and Allison's mother appeared from the passage that led to the kitchen in the back of the house. She was whip thin, with short blond hair that was tucked behind her ears. Her eyes narrowed slightly and her lips pursed, her tone of voice sharp when she spoke. "What do you want?"

He remembered her name—it was Alina—but he had barely known her, considering the way Allison was always avoiding going home. Hopefully his presence here wasn't seen as too untoward. "Hi. Ah. I was just looking for Allison. Has she gotten home from school yet?"

Alina looked at him coldly for a moment. "Who the hell are you?"

"Leonard Church. You know…I used to live across the street?"

"Oh?" Alina gave him another look, but that seemed to placate her enough for her to offer up an answer. "I haven't seen Allison in a while. You might try back later."

He glanced back at his car. "Okay. So…sometime after dinner, maybe?"

"No." Alina shook her head, scoffing slightly. "I don't think she'll come back that soon."

At least he'd have time to run home and eat. "Is it okay for me to stop back later on, then?"

This time Alina let out a little bark of laughter. "No. She won't be around until the next time she wears out her welcome wherever it is she's staying right now. Could be, oh…two weeks, two months… No way of telling."

Leonard's heart turned to ice in his chest. "So…Allison doesn't actually live here?"

"Only when it's convenient for her." Alina laughed, her voice raspy. "She's got a mind of her own, that's for sure."

Leonard shook his head in disbelief. "I'll just try back some other time." He turned and walked back to his car. The din of the usual neighborhood noise faded into the background as the memories danced just behind his vision. He started his car and started weaving up and down the streets, finding their old haunts. The empty lot that had once been her favorite abandoned house, now torn down. There was the alley where they used to take turns riding his skateboard. The field where they'd watch the neighborhood kids playing kickball.

_Allison, where are you?_ He continued to weave through the streets until dusk, unwilling to give up until he was forced to flick on his headlights.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Can't Take My Eyes Off You - Muse  
_Leonard's full focus comes to rest on Allison and his infatuation with her_

Over and Over - John Mayer  
_Leonard has to admit the way his crush on Allison has turned to infatuation after they kiss_

Sway - Bic Runga  
_Leonard knows Allison has a mind of her own but he still hopes that the kiss means she's going to begin a relationship with him_


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, Len," Lawrence said with a slight chuckle when he came in the door. "Were you waiting on me?"

"Yeah." Leonard had stood when his father entered the house and he shut off the program he was watching on the wall terminal. "I, uh. Wanted to talk to you about something."

Lawrence put his briefcase away and approached the kitchen to start his dinner. He started a pan on the heat and got some stir-fry vegetables out. "Something about school?"

"Not really." Leonard came over and leaned on the kitchen counter. "I just found out Allison's homeless."

"That's a shame." Lawrence dropped the vegetables in the pan. "I thought the two of you didn't get along."

Leonard shrugged. "We get along about as well as we did when we were neighbors. You know how she is."

"I recall." Lawrence turned to stir the food he'd put in the pan. "Is there a reason you're bringing this up?"

Might as well take the plunge. He'd always been able to be open with his father, even if he didn't always take the option. "Well, we do have a spare bedroom."

Lawrence didn't divert his eyes from the work his hands were doing. "Ah, I see. That's quite a request, Len."

"I know." A piece of fruit would be a good distraction and Leonard turned to the fridge to get out an orange.

"And her mother, she's homeless too?"

Leonard scoffed. "No. Allison just refuses to live in her house, and her mom doesn't care."

Lawrence thought for a long moment, turning the vegetables and pouring another touch of oil into the pan, before finally responding. "You need to consider what you're asking. Charity always has a price."

Leonard gave his father a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"Well, for example, inviting someone else to stay here means another mouth to feed. Someone using a third of the utilities."

Leonard made a sound of protest. "You mean you're going to charge her rent? What's the point then?"

Lawrence turned his gaze to look at Leonard. "Whether to charge her rent is up to you. If you don't want to, you need to handle that responsibility yourself."

Leonard started separating his orange into sections. "You mean I have to get a job?"

Lawrence scooped his food onto a plate. "And you have to keep your grades up. You know how you procrastinate on your homework. That's not going to be an option anymore."

"All right," Leonard said with a sigh. This was getting to be a lot more complicated than he'd been expecting. It would make things harder on him but so far, well, he felt he could shoulder that responsibility. It was going to be worth it. Making sure Allison stayed safe was important to him.

There was another long pause before Lawrence spoke again. "You need to be responsible about your friendship, too. She's going to think you have your expectations."

Leonard made a noise of confusion. "What?" he asked, although what his father meant was already dawning on him.

"She's going to expect you to pressure her for a relationship, Len. If she decides she'd like one, that's up to her, but if I get the sense in any capacity that you're pressuring her you're going to be in a hell of a lot of trouble. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yeah," Leonard said. He wasn't surprised his father would address this so bluntly. He fidgeted a bit, pulling more sections off the orange and popping one in his mouth. He couldn't deny he'd had a few thoughts about what it could mean to be sleeping across the hall from her.

Lawrence moved to the table with his plate. "If something does develop, you need to be responsible about that, too. You know I'm willing to supply you with condoms any time you need them."

They'd had that talk enough times. It wasn't like he needed the repetition. Leonard picked up the last slices of his orange from the counter and cupped them in his hand. "I get the picture."

"Good. This all starts now. You ought to start on your homework."

Leonard resisted making a sound of exasperation. "I'm about to." He had a lot to consider now. He'd have to be careful about how he made this invitation. He knew how Allison was. If she got defensive the whole thing would be a waste.

* * *

The next day he sat at his usual table at lunch. A night and a day left him unsure of what to think of the events of yesterday. He wasn't ready to approach her, but he kept glancing at her, not exactly trying to catch her eye. But she noticed him looking at her, and flipped him off, smirking. He grinned. He didn't quite understand it. Here she was, acting the way she always did toward him.

"Hey, Church," his friend, Jimmy, said from beside him.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning his gaze from the blonde across the cafeteria.

Jimmy grinned. "Just making sure you still knew I was here."

"Well, you didn't move." Leonard glanced Allison's direction before taking a bite of his food. Her attention was elsewhere now as she laughed and talked with her friends.

"Allison didn't move either," Jimmy said, laughing.

Leonard rolled his eyes. "I know." It was hard to keep himself from glancing over now and then though, even after being teased about it.

He was relieved when the final bell rang at the end of the day. He was ready this time, and packed everything up before his final class. This time he was able to head right for the hallway her locker was in.

By the time he reached it, she was already heading for an exit, and he sped his strides. "Allison! Allison, wait up!"

She glanced back, and then continued walking. After that she didn't show any sign that she could hear him calling. He broke into a jog and beat her to the door to hold it open for her. "Hey, Allison. Hey!" She breezed past him. "I want to talk to you."

"Obviously." She glanced at him again, this time to her side. "What the hell for?"

"You know." He tilted his head with a half-shrug. "About yesterday? That whole thing where you grabbed me and kissed me?"

"I wasn't the one doing the grabbing," she said, a wry curve to her lips. "And I don't see the point."

He had figured she would say something like that. "You were grabbing me just as much as I was grabbing you. I think we're even on that score."

She waved dismissively. "I wasn't keeping score."

"If you were keeping score, you'd have to admit it'd be pretty high." Except for that whole over-eager thing he'd had going on at first. But that wasn't the point. "Besides, look. Maybe you don't want to talk about it? But you can at least let me give you a ride and pick you up a burger."

She laughed. "You can't be serious."

"Can't ask for better company." He looked to the side to gauge her expression. She did seem to be wavering. Which was something he'd been counting on. "Come on, you know you want to."

She sighed. And she smiled. "I don't think I agree about the company. But I'll take you up on that. _If_ you buy me dinner." She had that mischievous sparkle in her eye, and he knew his wallet was going to be hurting after this. He felt sort of bad about bribing her into it. But at least she had agreed.

* * *

Leonard sat in silence as Allison ate. He had tried talking to her for a while, but ever since she got her food, she wasn't really acknowledging anything he said. Finally she was polishing off that second burger and sucking back the last of her soda, and her gaze finally fell on him.

"So…?" Her meal seemed to lift her spirits and there was her teasing smile. "What happened to talking? I know you're not giving up that easily."

"Who said I'm giving up?" He pulled out his wallet again. "You still want that sundae?"

Allison stretched, her back arching, before she relaxed into her seat again. "I'm a little full right now."

He shrugged and tucked his wallet away again, then set his hand on the gearshift to begin pulling out of the parking lot.

She batted at his arm. "Wait, what are you doing? I still want the ice cream."

"Just driving around. We can come back." He wasn't going to say so, but he was concerned that she'd just run off on him if he brought this up while they were parked. Plus if he was driving he didn't have to worry about the awkwardness of looking her in the face.

She crossed her arms and slouched further. "So? Talk, idiot."

He removed a hand from the steering wheel to fiddle with the gearshift. How was he supposed to bring this up? Might as well just plunge in. "So, listen. I stopped by your place yesterday. Talked to your mom."

She frowned, her expression darkening. "…About what?"

"Stuff. Mostly about where it is you're staying."

Now she was closing herself off. Her arms were still crossed and she sat up higher. "It's none of your business. And you're a nosy bastard."

"I made it my business. You'll just have to learn to live with the fact that someone cares that much," he said.

Allison raised an eyebrow, scoffing. "What the hell are you talking about? I thought I was just some slut as far as you were concerned."

He shook his head in disbelief, glancing over at her for as long as he dared while driving. She was looking away from him. Did she really think that? Leonard didn't know why she would. But she still hadn't responded, so he plowed ahead. "So? _Do_ you have anywhere to stay?"

There was a long pause while Allison studied the view out the window. "Look. Leonard," she finally replied. "I don't know what you're hoping for—"

"I just want to make sure you're safe."

Now she looked at him. He didn't look at her but he could tell from her tone that she had an eyebrow raised in skepticism. "Yeah. Right."

"You don't believe that? Do you remember that summer I lived across from you or not? Me and dad, that's what we both wanted to make sure of. You didn't want to go home for _some_ reason, right?"

This question was met with a stony stare.

"Huh," he said. "You still haven't answered me."

After a pause, Allison scoffed in exasperation. "Okay, look. I've been staying with this guy Randy, but he's my ex, and he got mad at me a couple of days ago. He kicked me out. And…I slept in mom's crawl space last night."

"You've been staying in the _crawl space_?" Leonard drew his lips back, aghast. What a horrible place to try and sleep.

"Only when I have to," she said defensively.

He glanced at her. "How often do you have to?"

She didn't answer, just shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. "Okay, look. I'm considering your offer. If it is an offer."

"Well, yeah," he said with a shrug. "I asked my dad about it. You know how open we are about stuff. He said that if you need a place to stay…"

She threw her crumpled burger wrapper at his head. "How do you get away with this kind of shit?"

He shot her a smirk. "I lead a charmed life, babe."

"Okay, number one? Don't call me that. And I don't believe itfor a second."

"Just watch, and you'll see," he teased, pulling back into the ice cream shop's parking area. "Come on, let's get you that sundae."

She laughed. "What, you're going to get me a magic sundae?"

"Just come on," he said, getting out of the car to lead the way in. They entered and Leonard walked up to the counter. The owner, Will, was a friend of his father's, and after their conversation the night before Lawrence had called Will to see if he had room on his payroll for Leonard. It was still up in the air, but it was pretty certain that Leonard would end up working here soon.

Will grinned. "Hello there, Leonard. Here for a treat?"

"Yeah." He inclined his head toward Allison. "She wants a sundae."

"Black cherry with fudge," Allison ordered.

"Good choice." Will winked at her and started to scoop her order up. "What about you, Leonard?"

"Oh, no thanks," he said.

"You sure? You want one, it's on the house." Will handed Allison her order and turned to Leonard. "Two for one, come on, you can't resist, can you?"

Leonard shot Allison a grin. That had happened pretty much exactly the way he'd predicted. Allison shook her head at him. "Not today, Will. I'll take a raincheck."

Will wiped his hands with a towel. "If you're sure. Don't say I didn't offer."

Leonard paid for the ice cream and the two of them made their way to the exit, Allison leading the way. "Oh, Leonard," Will called after him, and Leonard stopped, halfway through the door. "I let your dad know to tell you you'd be starting Saturday at ten o'clock. Make sure not to be late."

"I won't," he said, beginning to move forward again. "Thanks," he added, waving as he made his way out. Being responsible, he reminded himself as he joined Allison in his car. That was what this whole deal hinged on, and he didn't intend to screw it up.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Fix You - Secondhand Serenade  
_Leonard thinks inviting Allison to live with them will change everything for her_


	5. Chapter 5

Allison was contentedly munching on her ice cream as Leonard pulled up to his house. "Here it is," he said.

"No shit, I thought you were just stopping at a random house." She peered at the house through the window, taking the last scrapings of ice cream from the edges of the dish. "Looks nice," she added. "Too bad I've never been here before."

He cut the engine and pocketed his keys. "Hey, I've lived here for three years. Nothing was stopping you."

She scoffed, just a little, and gave him a look, handing him her empty sundae cup. "We'll just say it was easier to visit when you lived across the street."

He accepted it with mild confusion. "It's not like you needed an engraved invitation."

"I didn't get any invitation at all." She pulled on the door handle and got out of the car.

He followed suit, walking around the car to open the back door to retrieve their bags. "Never stopped you before."

"Yeah, well, like I said, it's different when the person you're going to be dropping in on is your neighbor." He came even with her, where she stood with her arms crossed.

"What?" he asked, following her gaze to the front of the house.

She shrugged. "Like I said, it looks nice. You really came up in the world."

He scoffed. "It's just a house." Yes, nicer than the neighborhood she lived in, but he didn't think the differences were too significant. He looked over at it, tried to see what it was that she saw. Nope, just a house. "You wanna go in or are we gonna stand here all day?"

She started for the door. "Just so you know, I know how this all works. I can take care of my business."

"I don't know what else you think I'd expect." When they reached the door he reached in his pocket for his keys with his free hand, trying to keep the bags balanced on his shoulder. "I mean, there are things to talk about but nothing complicated."

She leaned up against the doorframe. "Then talk about it."

"Just give me a minute, Allison." Doing this one-handed wasn't working. The damned key ring insisted on flipping over just when he had the key in reach. "We can talk inside."

"You look like an idiot." She grabbed the keys out of his fumbling fingers and brandished them. "Which one is it?"

"Goddammit." Leonard lost his grip on the bags when she yanked the keys out of his hand and they fell onto the porch. He heaved an exasperated sigh as he picked the bags back up. "It's the gold one that's on the same ring as my car keys."

Allison unlocked the door and sauntered into the house. "Wow, look at this place. It's like…" She frowned. "Clean."

He shrugged, following. What had she expected? "That's what happens when you can pay someone to vacuum." He didn't bother to mention the person who got paid to clean was himself. Leaving it at that sounded more impressive. He approached the trash can and threw her sundae cup inside.

Allison had wandered into the kitchen and was rooting around in the fridge. Finally, she grabbed an apple and bit into it. "I thought we were talking now."

"What are you, starving to death?" He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. It could very well be true. She shot him a look but didn't respond. He cleared his throat, nodding toward the stairs. "Come with me and I'll show you around," he said, shouldering his bag and holding the strap of hers in both hands.

"Right," she said. "You want to talk _upstairs_." She bumped him as she walked by, leading the way.

He trudged up after her. "Yeah, upstairs, that's where the bedrooms are."

"Mhm." Once she scaled the stairs she stopped before the first door, which was open, and laughed."Oh, fuck, you still have those bunk beds? Let me guess, I'm sleeping on the top bunk?"

"Yeah, no, my dad isn't _that_ laid back." He gestured toward the room further down the hallway, across the way from his. "You're staying in the guest room."

She eyed him. "Yeah, okay."

"What?" he asked, holding out the strap of her bag for her to take.

She took the bag and held the strap in one hand, her apple still clutched in the other. "Nothing."

"Sure," he said. It was easy to see there was something bothering her, and it was kind of easy to guess what, too. Maybe he shouldn't have made that joke about why she wouldn't be sleeping in his room. "Anyway, there's some stuff in the dresser that Dad keeps for guests. Toothbrushes and stuff."

"I have a toothbrush," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Is there anything else I should know?"

He shrugged. "We can work things out as we go along."

"Yeah, I guess 'we' can do that." She shouldered her bag and turned to go into her room. "Don't worry, I've stayed in plenty of people's houses, I know what that means."

"You know what what means?" he asked, confused. It wasn't like he was trying to be cryptic.

"I'm good at compromise, that's all." She used her hip to bump the door open. "You going to join me?"

"Uh. Okay." He followed her and stood in the doorway to watch her sling her bag onto the dresser. He felt slightly uncomfortable, unsure why she had asked him to come with her. "There might be some other stuff in there too, I don't know." That was the sort of thing his dad would do, just buy a few things specifically for her to make her feel at home.

She opened the top drawer, setting her apple down. There was the package containing the toothbrush, as expected, along with some shampoo and a hairbrush, and— "Pajamas," she said flatly, pulling the bundle out of the drawer. She lifted the top by the shoulders to let it hang from her fingertips. "They're not very sexy, Leonard."

"They're not meant to be," he said defensively. "I mean," he added quickly, "I mean I didn't put them there. Dad must have just gotten some stuff he thought you'd need."

She dropped the pajamas back in the drawer and shut it. "I guess I need to thank him then." Her tone was dry. Was she being sarcastic?

He rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, you do, actually, because none of this would be happening if he hadn't said it was okay."

"I know," she said. "You just going to stand there?"

"I mean, I guess so. Why?"

She watched him for a moment, her head tilted, then she moved her bag to the bed. "Have it your way, then."

"You're the one who called me over here," he reminded her.

She laughed. "All right, Leonard. Come in," she said, crooking a beckoning finger at him.

He frowned. "What are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" she asked, frustrated. "Either come in or leave me alone."

Well, he knew what he preferred between those two options. He stepped into the room and let the door close behind him.

"All right," she breathed. "That's what I thought."

"What's what you thought?" he said, watching her warily as she turned to face him. There was a tension in his midsection, and he had a sense he knew exactly what she was thinking, the same thing his father had warned him she'd be thinking, and the larger part of him didn't mind it one bit that she was about to come on to him. The look on her face was almost predatory.

"You know," she said, and he did, he really did.

"Allison," he said, his voice coming slowly, because oh God, was it hard to think when every animal instinct in him told him to follow her lead here. "You know, I'm not looking for that."

"You're looking for _something_ or you wouldn't be in here."

"Yeah," he said, then shook his head. "No, look, Allison. I know you know I like you. I kind of hoped you did too, you know? 'Cause of when you kissed me?"

She snickered. "It was just a kiss, Leonard."

"Exactly. Just a kiss." He swallowed. He was no innocent—he'd been in a previous relationship and he knew what kind of dance it took to get from kissing to something more serious. And this wasn't what that looked like. "Allison, listen, I uh…I didn't do this to try to make you hook up with me. Okay? It's just 'cause I wanted you to have a safe place to stay. That's all."

Her expression had softened and she paused to pass a hand through the front of her hair. "And you don't want anything in return?" she asked.

"Nuh, I mean, I wouldn't _mind_ it. I'm cool with it if, you know, if it's something you really want."

"Ah." She dropped her arms and rolled her eyes. "Right."

Okay, that had come out wrong. "That's not what I meant," he said. "I mean I want something, but not _that_."

"Mhm. All out of the goodness of your heart, I got it."

"Yeah," he said lamely.

She raised her eyebrow, and she gave him a little nudge on the arm. "Well, if you're not looking for anything why don't you get out?"

He sighed, turning to leave, his steps reluctant. He gave her one last backward glance, and headed into his room. He felt let-down and heady both at the same moment and he knew coming down from the subtle arousal he'd experienced was going to be difficult. It would be easy, far too easy, to go across the hall and tell her he'd changed his mind. He locked his door and sat down on the edge of his bed, shoving his face into his hands. She had almost seemed offended that he didn't plan to use her for sex. He clenched his eyes shut. This was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever done.


	6. Chapter 6

Somehow, Leonard found it within himself to drive her to Randy's house the next day so she could pick up her things. He stayed in the car, though. He remembered who Randy was now. He lived a few doors down from Allison's mother's house, and he was about ten years older than the two of them. Leonard had always been kind of skeeved out by the guy.

When Allison came out of the house she had one box, and that was all. She placed it in his trunk and slammed the door after she entered the passenger seat of the car. "And that's that," she said. "What a total jackass."

"He's a fuckwad," Leonard said. "I don't know what you were doing with him."

She shrugged. "It's over now."

With that he pulled away from the curb, happy to leave that old neighborhood behind. He'd be glad never to have to spend time there ever again.

"You going to want help taking that inside?" he asked when they'd reached the house.

"You're kidding, right?" She poked at his bicep, then flexed her own arm. "I got it. Just try not to let the breeze knock you over, okay?"

"Just trying to be nice," he said. "You don't have to be a bitch about it."

She laughed, a disbelieving chuckle. "Since when are you nice?"

"I'm not, come to think of it. Good thing you reminded me." When they went inside she disappeared into her bedroom, and he decided to make sure he didn't bother her. He made dinner for them instead. What a pain it was, this whole being responsible thing. And it was just the start.

For the next two days she met him out at his car after school for the ride to his house, already settled into the passenger seat. They hadn't really spoken about it, but it seemed that she was comfortable to stay with him for now. He was grateful for that. He wanted to protect her from her old life, keep her safe. She should never have to suffer hardship again.

On the third day, he expected things to be the same, but here he was, watching as most of the student body walked out of the school and most of the cars had pulled away. It was Friday, so there was a mass exodus that was not seen on the other days of the week.

Allison had not been in any of the places he usually saw her after lunch period. In reality, he knew that she had skipped out of school at some point, but he waited for her anyway. Eventually he gave into facts and climbed into the driver's seat, his movements reluctant. It wasn't like she was obligated to stay with him. And he knew that.

Upon arriving, as he walked up to his house, considering how he would approach her the next time he saw her, he became dimly aware that he could hear music, thumping through the walls of the house. Opening the front door confirmed what he was hearing, and laughter and talking filtered into his ears from the stairwell. He frowned, setting his bag down. One of the voices was low-pitched. _I can't believe she brought some guy here._

He trudged up the stairs. He could tell now that the sounds were coming from his room and not hers. The door was open and as he crested the top of the staircase he quickly began to regret his approach. Allison was facing the open doorway, straddled over Randy, who was lying on Leonard's weight bench. Her shirt was unbuttoned, and the lacy fabric of her bra peeked out. His eyes didn't linger on that, though it normally would have been a welcome sight. Instead he gripped the doorjamb, disgusted and angry.

"Hey, Leonard!" Allison laughed, seemingly enjoying his discomfort. Randy's head craned to look in his direction. "You want to watch? It'll be the next best thing to being able to fuck me yourself!"

Leonard felt rage climbing his face, a red flush betraying his anger. He was too angry to speak.

Allison's eyebrows lifted and she rested her hands on Randy's chest to lean forward and leer. "What's wrong? I thought you said you weren't looking for anything from me." She was still laughing like a jovial drunk, but Leonard could tell now how much of it was an act. Her eyes were like stone—she was in complete control of herself. She was trying to get at him, make him hurt.

Leonard pressed his lips into a thin line, finally regaining his faculties well enough to speak. "You know _damn_ well what I said, Allison. I'm not going to ask you to do anything you don't want to do. And if you want to be with Randy, fine. You want to fuck him? You do it in your room, not mine."

Leonard slammed the door, overhearing the beginning of an argument, but not caring. He rushed back down the stairs. He didn't know if he wanted to hit something, throw something, or, well, throw something while he hit it. Actually he wanted to rip out Allison's esophagus and stomp on it.

Instead he went out into the driveway and picked up his basketball. He dribbled it like he was trying to knock all the air out of it. He made a pounding throw toward the backboard. The ball bounced off wildly, eventually ceasing to bounce as it rolled into the grass. Leonard plunked himself down right on the pavement. He realized angry tears had clouded his vision and he rubbed his face to get rid of them. Yes, he'd known she was capable of this kind of thing, but he had hoped…

He raised his fist to his forehead. It wasn't like Allison was going to forget how she was raised, everything she learned as she grew up. He knew her childhood hadn't been ideal, but even her desire to escape from her mother's home in her own measure didn't mean she was free of its influence.

Soon after, Randy opened the front door of the house, exiting with a slam. "Good luck with that bitch," he said. "You know she told me this was her father's house?" He scoffed and took a drink from the bottle of alcohol he'd carried out of the house with him. "You can have her, I don't want anything else to do with her."

Leonard stood as Randy spoke and crossed his arms. "Well, good; you're no good for her anyway."

Randy laughed. "_I'm_ no good for _her? _She's just like her damn mother. You let her stay here, she'll turn it into a whorehouse."

Leonard took a step forward and let his tall frame tower over the older man. "Get the hell off my property."

"Yeah, waste your energy defending that trash. I'm outta here." Randy swung around and headed off. Leonard watched as Randy walked unsteadily to the end of the street and turned the corner.

He rubbed the back of his neck. He was still angry and he didn't want to go inside only to find Allison half-undressed in his bedroom. Not after this. He got in his car and drove away, looking for escape so he could think this through. His mind raced in circles. In some ways he wished he'd never learned about her situation, but that would have just left her in it. Even being as upset as he was with her, he couldn't bring himself to wish he hadn't. He hated her right now but that didn't mean he was okay with leaving her to rot in that situation.

Eventually, he had no choice but to return. He pulled back up to the house after more than an hour of aimless driving and approached the front door. With a resigned sigh he opened it and went inside. Everything was silent now. He treaded cautiously up the stairs. She was no longer in his room. Good. A few days ago, all he'd wanted was for her to stay. Now he didn't even want to see her face.

* * *

It was more than an hour later when Leonard looked up at the sound of rapping on his bedroom door. It took him a few moments to register what was going on, finally arising at the second tap. He was fairly sure he was going to see Allison standing there when he opened the door, and not his father. He wasn't sure how he was going to react to her, but he could never ignore her.

Allison looked somehow raw when he opened the door, her hair pushed back off of her forehead and her brow creased. She'd showered and changed into the lightweight pajamas that had been in her drawer the other day, apparently planning to go to bed. "Hey," she said.

"What?" He didn't sound as short as he meant to. Maybe it was the vulnerability of her coming to him like this, but as soon as he saw her his irritation with her had already begun to fade.

"Need to talk to you," she said, looking away a little with a shrug.

"Yeah. Come in." This had better be good, that was all he knew. He sat down on the edge of the bed, kicking the desk chair a little closer for her to sit in.

Instead she stood in front of him, holding her elbows. "Look…I'm sorry. About earlier. I don't know why I did that." She licked her lips. "I really expected you to kick me out."

He let out a small snort. "If you want to leave, all you have to do is say so."

"I don't, though. I…" She sighed and shrugged. "Thanks for not doing it, anyway."

"Just…don't do anything like that again." Because he wouldn't be able to handle seeing her like that with another guy again. He could barely handle it this time. He was probably crazy for not doing exactly what she'd said. He figured she at least deserved one more chance.

"I won't." She stepped forward and sat down next to him. "You shouldn't put up with me."

He fended off a fleeting desire to tell her to get up or simply push her away. He swallowed heavily instead, seeking inside himself for that anger he'd felt before, for that revulsion. It was fading into oblivion with each passing moment. He glanced over at her. Maybe he was crazy. What was it about her that did this to him? "Yeah, well; maybe I like putting up with you. It's like a hobby."

"Well, you shouldn't." She sighed and then pulled away from him, pushing back further onto his bed, sitting cross-legged. "You mind if I stay?"

"Uh, no." He was about to scoot back and join her but before he got the chance she swooped back and stretched out on top of the blanket.

"You sure?" she asked, crossing her arms at the wrist, playing demurely with the hem of the pajama top, smoothing it down.

His eyes skimmed over her as he turned more fully to face her, resting one knee on the edge of the bed. "I said you could stay, didn't I?"

She smiled slightly. "You know, Leonard, I'm glad you found out about what was going on. At first I was pretty pissed off. Really, you didn't have any right to go digging like you did. But it all turned out good in the end."

"How long has this been going on, anyway?" he asked. "Is that why you were always crashing on our couch when we lived there?"

"Sort of," she admitted. "I didn't like being there, that's all."

"And it's only gotten worse since then, huh?"

She shrugged. "Not really. I just quit putting up with it, most of the time. You can lie down, you know."

"What?" He couldn't help it; his eyes looked her up and down once again. "You sure?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal." She scooted over a little bit. "As long as you're not mad at me anymore."

"Huh, okay." He turned around and stretched out next to her, hands behind his head. He hadn't forgotten about earlier, not by a long shot, but that didn't lessen his desire to flirt with her. Especially not considering their current position. "That irresistible, huh?"

She scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself."

"Actions speak louder than words."

She yawned. "Just as long as you're speaking the right language," she said.

"Maybe I ought to hire a translator, then," he said. "I'd have to pay a premium but maybe it'd be worth it."

"Maybe?" She prodded him in the side, then rolled slightly on her side to rest her head on his shoulder. She sighed and settled in, closing her eyes.

"Yeah, maybe." He watched her, somewhat in wonder, unsure what was really going on. But she was puzzling most of the time. He considered this in the light of their conversation. He shouldn't read too much into this, he decided. But it was nice being affectionate with someone. Especially considering it was her. He watched her face. This was the same peacefulness she displayed when she'd slept on his couch at the old house. So maybe he should take her lead. If she had a problem with it, she'd say so. He lowered his arms, curling one around her shoulders. Apparently he'd forgiven her by now, despite himself.

"We never did this when we were younger," she muttered. "It's nice."

Leonard grunted. "Nice. Yeah."

Her eyes opened. "What?"

He smiled wryly. "Oh, I don't know, you just seem awfully eager to get into bed with me all of a sudden."

She scoffed and thumped her hand against his chest, closing her eyes again. "Don't get your hopes up."


	7. Chapter 7

Leonard lay awake and listened to Allison's breathing. He had fallen asleep and dozed for a while but then had awoken sometime after dusk and been unable to return to sleep. He was trying to think of anything but the press of her body up against him. The urge to touch her was becoming harder and harder to resist. He reached with his free hand to rub his forehead. Would he be pressuring her if he made a move right now? After all, she was the one who had come to him. Was he speaking her language, like she'd said earlier?

He strove within himself. He ought to be disgusted by his feelings for her right now. He didn't want Randy's sloppy seconds. This was Allison though. It was Allison, who he'd been infatuated with ever since he could remember. It was Allison, who had just gone out of her way to betray him. It was Allison, who he couldn't help but forgive.

Why was he even in this situation?

He shouldn't take it for granted that he knew what she was thinking. He needed to find something, anything else to keep his mind on. When she woke up, he'd ask her point-blank. No…that wasn't a good idea either. If she intended it to be the start of something, she'd let him know. Through her actions. As long as he interpreted her actions correctly.

He led out a long, deep sigh. He settled his head back again against the pillow and tried to think about something, anything, that would keep his mind off of the anticipation that was coursing through his system. The more he tried not to think about it, the worse it got. Every time he thought of an unsexy thing to think about—his indisputably unattractive English teacher, for example—his mind followed it up with a memory that led back to her. It was all little things of course, nothing overt, but he'd always enjoyed it when she would tease him.

His hand trailed on her waist. He was getting into dangerous territory now. He could feel the hem of her pajama top. The temptation was too much now. He held his breath, swallowing. His fingertips brushed under the hem and felt her skin. Now all thoughts of resistance were gone. He had been aching to touch her like this. Had she really meant for nothing to happen when she'd come here? He slowly snaked his hand in under the hem and glided it up her belly, feeling the soft, taut skin with his palm.

In a flash she was awake, her hand darting to grip his wrist painfully, and she torqued it as she swung her legs around, pinning him with one knee on his chest, dipping her head when it bumped the bunk above. In the gloom he could see that she was holding the point of a pocketknife in his face. "Haven't I told you to keep your fucking hands off me?" she growled, jabbing her bodyweight down onto his chest.

He put his free hand out in surrender, shocked into silence, eyes wide.

When she saw his face, her expression gave way to something apologetic. She released his arm and rubbed her head. "Leonard. I forgot where I was." She plunked down onto the bed and folded the knife up. "Sorry."

It took a moment for Leonard's tongue to loosen. "_Sorry_?"

She shook her head, turning to sit on the edge of the bed with her back to him, and stuffed the knife back in the pocket of the pajama pants.

He sat up next to her, swinging his legs around her before settling on the edge of the bed. "Hey, Allison, what was that? Why do you have a knife?"

She didn't spare him a glance. "In case you haven't _noticed_, I don't come from the nicest area of town."

"I know _that_." He shook his head as if that would clear it somehow and make this make sense. Her words now didn't add up with her actions and he was genuinely confused. "You've never told me to keep my hands off of you before."

"I wasn't talking about you. I thought…" She turned her head, looking away from him. "Forget it."

"Did you think I was someone else?" He took her silence as an affirmative. "Who?"

She paused before answering. "Some guy. One of mom's boyfriends. I don't know who he was."

"Some guy?" Leonard's mind was churning. It was still sluggish from sleep, but some of the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. "Did someone hurt you?"

Her tone grew darker. "It doesn't matter."

Neither of them moved, though he felt like shifting closer. "It matters to me."

"He should have kept his hands to himself." She made a small sound, something like the sound one makes when stifling back tears, but Leonard knew she wasn't crying. Wouldn't cry, not even over something like this. "That's when I started finding other places to stay. I couldn't stand the idea of that happening again."

Leonard couldn't think of anything to say. It didn't matter, though, because she kept talking.

"It was the worst day of my life. That fucking creep…" She slouched back, lip curling in disgust. "I didn't think I could trust anyone. I…I felt like everyone knew. It was stupid, but that's what I thought."

Leonard felt as though his body had gone heavy, like a dead weight. He didn't know how to respond to something like that. He wanted to hunt down that person and hurt him, but what could he do about it? Nothing, that was what.

Allison was watching him. She shook her head when she saw his expression, and rubbed his shoulder as though to assure him. "It's all right, Leonard. It was a long time ago."

"You don't act like it's all right." Why else would she have the knife? Why would she still be carrying it in her pajamas, even—even here?

"It is." She trailed her hand down from his shoulder to his waist. She gripped it, briefly, then climbed onto his lap, sitting sideways, and kissed him.

Leonard's heart beat in his ears. He resisted for a bit, filled with doubts. After what she'd just shared, was this the right thing to do? He didn't want to take advantage of her at a vulnerable moment. But then he realized she was coming to him for comfort. Surely he couldn't deny her that.

As she kissed him she turned to straddle him, gripping his shoulders with her hands as she shifted positions. He helped her settle back into his lap, avoiding bumping her head on the bunk above, and put one of his hands in her hair. It was silky soft. His thoughts thudded in his mind, almost as if he was trying to transmit them to her, making a promise through the touch of his hands and the way he caressed her. He closed his eyes. _You'll never hurt like that again._

He touched the back of her neck lightly, sliding his fingers through her tresses. Allison keened and kissed him more deeply. _Fuck._ She was getting him so excited. He put a little bit of traction on her hair and she gasped against his lips, moving her hands to his arms and kneading her fingers into the muscle. It was his turn to grunt and he placed his other hand on her ass to snug her hips up against his. She writhed against him but now, of all times, he felt a pang of apprehension. He couldn't come on too aggressive. Sure, she was giving as well as she was getting but he didn't want her to think he was pressuring her. "Allison," he mumbled through their kiss. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"Shut up." She reached up and unbuttoned the pajama top, taking them one at a time. That was close enough to permission for him. He shoved the top off of her shoulder, raking her with his eyes before pressing his lips to hers again, harder than before. Their motions became frenetic as they fumbled to undress, and they stretched out on the bed together, their lips scarcely parting, breath coming in pants and gasps.

"You gotta condom?" she said against his lips.

"Here," he muttered, rolling back to snake his hand into his bedside table drawer. He caught his hand inside the drawer and had to wrench it back out, emerging triumphantly with the little foil packet, and he twisted back to face her.

It was strange; doing this, he felt much less awkward than he had when they'd kissed in that classroom. After all, he was in his own bed—the bottom bunk of a childish bunk bed, sure, but it was his own territory. He was about to guide her onto her back when she took the initiative first, grabbing him about the shoulders, climbing to straddle him as he rolled. He looked up at her, even more excited than before, caressing her sides. She shoved him back into the pillow. "Give me that," she growled, taking the condom out of his hand. She ripped it open and applied it with a practiced hand while he luxuriated in touching her skin, smoothing his hands over her breasts and her thighs.

She rocked down onto him. "Stop doing that and fuck me."

She started moving, and he looked up at her, watching her face as he struggled to find her rhythm. She was wrapped up in herself and her own enjoyment, it seemed; she had brought her hand between them to play with herself, and he let out a little groan, thrusting into her with a more steady beat. She opened her eyes and looked down at him with a knowing smirk. "That's right," she murmured, meeting his movements with a flexing of her hips, pressing down onto him. He gripped her thighs and did his best to continue in the same cadence.

Before long he was rocking beneath her as he finished. He collapsed against the pillow, breathing heavily. That had been better than he'd ever dared to dream. Allison set her hand on his belly, pulled back, then settled along his side. "Look at you," she said. "That was nice."

He let her move, then let his head rest against her chest, kissing lightly here and there. "Mm."

She brushed a hand over his hair. "No, really. You acted like you cared that it was _me_ with you, you know? Not just some random fuckhole."

Leonard set his head back so he could look at her. He didn't really want to contemplate the experiences behind her statement, but he wasn't going to quash the sentiment. "Yeah, I did, Allison. I do."

They lapsed into silence, their breathing slowing into a contented rhythm. It wasn't long, though, before she sat up and pulled the pajama top around her shoulders. Then she stood up and shimmied into the pajama bottoms. He watched with regret as the waistband rose. His glimpses of her bare form had been too brief so far.

She stretched her arms out to show that she was now fully clothed. "Show's over, Church."

He rolled his eyes, sitting up to clean himself up. He only went by his last name at school, a legacy of his basketball days. He didn't know why she suddenly switched to that. "You didn't have to get dressed so soon."

"I'm hungry," she said with a shrug. "You going to fix something for your guest?"

"Maybe if you ask nicer than that." He pulled his clothes over to himself and started to get dressed. Despite his words, it was obvious he was already planning to accommodate her.

"Right," she said with a smirk. "I'll meet you down there."

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

If The Rain Must Fall - James Morrison  
_Leonard thinks he's devoted himself to Allison and that their coming together shows her how much he needs her_

Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls  
_When Allison comes to him Leonard thinks this is the beginning of a real relationship between the two of them_


	8. Chapter 8

It was late evening when they made their way down the stairs. Allison sat down at the table with a glass of water, giving Leonard the space he needed to do whatever he was going to do. This whole domestic thing he was doing was humorous to her. Especially considering what had just happened. She couldn't hold it in once he started the process of cooking the pancake batter he'd just mixed up. She didn't try to hide at all the fact that she was smirking.

"What the hell are you smiling at?" he said when he noticed.

She shrugged, standing to join him, leaning against the counter. "Just something about you cooking for me. It's funny."

He tried to hand her the spatula. "You can do the cooking if you prefer."

"I've never cooked a thing in my life," she laughed, pushing his hand away. "Where did you learn to cook, anyway?"

Leonard turned the box of pancake mix and pointed at the directions on the back. "It's not rocket surgery."

"Rocket surgery?" Allison's laughter deepened. "Where did you get that?"

He shrugged. "It's just a silly expression my dad uses."

As if on cue, the front door lock turned and Leonard's father walked in the door. He opened the front closet and set his things inside. "Late dinner, huh?"

"Yeah," Allison replied. "We were busy talking before. Still working out the arrangements."

"Looks like they're working out in your favor." Lawrence nodded in Leonard's direction. "How is your landlord treating you?"

"Dad," Leonard protested, shaking his head slightly. Allison shot another smirk in his direction. Leonard was always embarrassed by Lawrence's jokes and it figured he'd overreact to an innocuous little remark like that one.

"All right, Leonard, I've said my piece on the matter." Lawrence chuckled and sat at the table. "I trust you've had a pleasant stay so far."

Allison walked around the counter. "Very," she assured him, taking a seat across from him. "Leonard's been giving me _everything_ I wanted." She glanced over at Leonard. From his posture she could tell he knew exactly what she was referring to. He had a terrible poker face. She grinned. "I could really get used to it, you know?"

Lawrence settled his hands in front of him on the table. "That's good. Leonard had his concerns, I think, that you wouldn't like the arrangements."

"No, they're great." She kept her gaze on Leonard as he turned to bring over the platter, piled high with pancakes. She knew what Leonard thought about this whole arrangement. He might have tried to deny it at first, but the tryst they'd just had upstairs proved that.

After the meal and some small talk Leonard got up. "I'll be right back." He headed upstairs and they heard the sound of the bathroom door clicking closed.

"So, Allison." Lawrence got up and cleared their plates and sat back down as he spoke. "I wonder if we can talk for a few moments while Leonard is otherwise occupied."

"Sure." She was vaguely uncomfortable, but kept her strong façade up. She wasn't used to taking instruction from men. In fact, in the last few years she had taken care of every one of her own needs by herself. Sure it had meant sneaking into her mother's house and it meant stealing sometimes, but she got to take care of herself. It was strange to be beholden to other people now.

"I just want to ask you to avoid hurting Leonard, if at all possible."

Allison didn't respond to this at all. She only stared at him, one of her eyebrows arched slightly.

Lawrence met her implacable gaze. "Leonard seems to think he can save you from yourself. But I've been around the block enough times to know people don't change so easily. I'll understand if you feel that this isn't going to work for you, Allison. I'm just asking you that if you don't, you try to let him down gently, all right?"

Allison didn't know what to say. She had a sense she should feel insulted, but his tone had been so matter-of-fact that she didn't feel any offense. "I think that sounds…reasonable."

"Good. Thank you, Allison." Lawrence got up and rapped the table. "I'm going to get to bed now. I'm planning to spend some time at the office in the morning. Could you let Leonard know I said good night and not to be late to work tomorrow?"

"Work? I didn't know he had a job."

"It's part of the agreement to let you stay here. My friend offered him a job at the ice cream shop downtown. It should be a very good experience for him." Lawrence paused and she nodded numbly. "It's good to see you again, Allison. You have a good night." Lawrence walked to the door of the master suite and slipped inside.

Allison had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't known Leonard worked there when he took her to get that ice cream. He had seemed awfully chummy with the guy behind the counter, but she hadn't thought much of it at the time. Now she had to wonder what he'd really been up to. Would Leonard actually take her to his place of employment to show her off? And what was this business about her letting Leonard down gently? Didn't they know she was capable of making her own decisions? She always made her own decisions. She wasn't going to change for him. She'd leave without notice, if she really felt like it. It wasn't like he deserved anything more than that.

She was still sitting in the same spot when Leonard came down the stairs. "Oh, did Dad go to bed?"

She didn't turn to look at him. "Yeah. He said you shouldn't be late to work tomorrow."

"Oh, shit, I forgot about that." There was an uncomfortable pause as he approached the table. She still wasn't looking up at him. "What's going on?"

"Oh, I'm just sitting here wondering why you would take me to the ice cream shop where you work to have a private conversation." She arose to look him in the face and addressed him vindictively. "I'm sure that guy behind the counter who served me my sundae loved the thrill of meeting your little whore."

Leonard was momentarily speechless. Did she really think it was like that for him? "You know we weren't even inside when we had that talk. Besides, we weren't together back then, so—"

Allison let out a snort. "_Together_? What the hell are you talking about?"

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "I mean tonight, when... I mean, I thought…"

Her biting laughter pierced his brain. "You are such a girl, Church! Let me inform you of something." She leaned closer to graze his ear with her lips as she spoke. "Sometimes sex is just sex." She backed up to regard the hurt on his face, smirking. "You ought to know that."

Leonard felt like throwing up. "I can't believe…"

"Hey, I have to repay you for the room somehow. Don't have any money, so…" She laughed sardonically.

He wanted to grab her by the arm, shake her, make her understand. "Allison, I'm not interested in using you. I'm interested in _you._ I…I thought you understood that."

She looked at him contemptuously. "I guess I've never known the difference."

Leonard's eyes clouded. "Look, if you can't accept the way I feel about you, then…fine." The words were like acid in his throat. Sure there was a part of him willing to accept meaningless sex from her, what guy wouldn't? "But…don't come knocking again until you can."

With a derisive scoff, Allison turned and hiked up the stairs, her footsteps sure and steady. He heard her bedroom door click closed.

Leonard lurched over to the couch and melted onto the seat. That was the hardest thing he had ever done. It had taken everything in him not to beg her to love him, not to grovel at her feet for her acceptance. He told himself things would be all right even if he only received her scorn. At least she had a warm place to sleep at night, right?

He squeezed his eyes shut. It was going to be worth it. _It has to be._

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Clocks - Coldplay  
_Leonard thinks changing things for Allison will make everything turn out all right, but she refuses to be tamed_


	9. Chapter 9

Leonard finally drifted off to sleep in his bed sometime early in the morning. His alarm went off at eight. As it blared his mind flooded with the events of the previous night. _Ugh._ It was like all his plans kept crumbling to dust in his hands. With a groan he rolled out of bed and switched off the alarm at the computer terminal in his bedroom wall. He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the light. His hands shook as he glared at his reflection in the mirror. He could remember the look on her face, her contemptuous laughter. "_Sometimes sex is just sex_," she'd said, throwing his actions in his face. Maybe it was his own fault for wearing his heart on his sleeve the way he had. She'd simply taken advantage of him for that. Though why she'd done that right after sharing something so personal, he didn't understand at all.

He shook his head, still staring in the mirror, but now his thoughts were on the night before, the way she played the aggressor, grinding down against him, her fingertips indenting into his skin as she kissed him; what he took at the time for passion, but as he considered the way she had been, how she had acted, it seemed almost like she had been driven by anger.

His eyes focused back on to his reflection. It had been just as it had been in that physics classroom. Whatever issue she was dealing with, she was using him as a proxy to work through it, and his feelings for her were the victim. After a pause he made a sound of exasperation and let go of the counter. He started back down the hall toward his bedroom, abandoning the idea of taking a shower before work today. He just wanted to get out of here.

As he stepped out of the bathroom he could see that Allison's door was hanging open, just wide enough for him to see the end of the bed, and he unconsciously held his breath as he walked up to it. Allison was lying on top of the blankets, though she had an armful of the comforter crumpled up with her face partially buried in the folds. It was subtle, but he could see that her closed eyes were underlined with red blotches. Had she…actually been crying?

Maybe all her bravado the previous night had been an act. He kept telling himself to get going but he lingered for a few moments. "You think I'm trying to use you," he muttered. Because that's what it was, he realized. She seemed to be trying to prove it with everything she did. He rubbed his hand across his forehead, frustrated. The more he tried to drive away the memory of last night, the more it dominated his thoughts.

So he dressed for work, and left in a daze, only able to think of her. It was too early to go to the ice cream shop yet, so he drove to a nearby park, getting out to throw stones into the pond. It wasn't a good distraction. It just left him alone with his thoughts. Was this all really going to be worth it? The more he considered what she had done the more aggressively he threw those stones. She didn't trust him. And he'd given her all kinds of reasons to think she was right in that.

After a bit he decided to get his COM pad out. He needed to talk this out and the obvious choice was to call Jimmy. He sat on a park bench, leaning back into it, and once the call was established he explained what was going on—not in full detail, but he did describe how Allison had chosen to sleep with him before revealing she didn't intend to start a relationship with him.

"Dude, from what I know, she's not a relationship person," Jimmy said. "Maybe you should be glad it worked out like that. At least she's not stringing you along."

"I'm not glad," Leonard said. "I was just being naïve, I guess."

"Definitely," Jimmy said. "I think you should just forget about anything panning out with her."

"Yeah," Leonard muttered. "I guess I should."

He finally left the park in time for work. Will stood behind the counter. "Hey there. Employee entrance is through there," he said, nodding toward the door beyond the counter.

Leonard went to the back, tied on an apron as he was instructed, and began the business of training. At first it was difficult to keep his mind on what he was learning. Most of it was simple enough—scoop up ice cream in measured amounts, use this mixer for the milkshakes, and of course he was given the duty of taking out the trash. Before long, though, it got busy and his mind was able to preoccupy itself with the work. It was the first Saturday in April, which meant the beginning of baseball. It was also unusually hot. There were droves of people coming in for a treat. He ended up staying for seven hours instead of the scheduled five. The shop was inundated with customers the whole day through.

"Sorry about holding you over," Will said. "John was in late."

He'd been hoping he'd be able to leave when he'd seen the other employee arrive. "Is it always like this?" Leonard asked, stripping off his apron.

"No. I guess word got out there was a rookie training today, and everyone in town wanted to make life hard for you." Will smiled. "You're a good worker. Though I wouldn't expect anything less from Larry's son."

Leonard shrugged. "I've never worked like that in my life. Never had a job before."

Will wasn't dissuaded. "Well, I look forward to seeing you on Monday."

"Sure. Thanks." He headed back out to his car. He'd proved himself that day, which was all according to plan. He'd be building on this budding reputation in the future. Since word would be getting back to his dad on that, he would make sure of it.

It wasn't until he got home that his mind returned to his other problems. He had to unlock the door when he arrived. He could hear music blaring in the front room. _Not this again. _If she had brought another man here that would be the end of this arrangement.

He touched the screen of the computer terminal in the wall to silence it. He could see from here, over the counter that separated the living area from the kitchen, clear evidence that she had fixed herself something to eat. He wandered over there, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes. She'd left a mess on the counter, and her plate with abandoned sandwich crust sat alongside. "Allison?" He moved to the stairs and called again. He received no answer.

By now he was nearly certain she'd done this just to aggravate him. He felt a bit resentful; he'd just spent all that time at work, keeping up his end of a deal that was only meant for her benefit, and here she'd left him more work to do. He turned his back on the mess, determining that he would just tell her to clean it up later. Instead of trying to find her again, he took a fast shower, grabbing one of his marijuana cigarettes from his room as he headed back down the stairs. The drug had become legal some years back and along with the freedom he had from having a workaholic for a father came the ability to indulge in a few vices. After a long day of work at a new job, relaxing by smoking some pot sounded very attractive right now.

He was nearly finished when the patio door rumbled open. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He didn't move from his reclined position in the patio chair, not thinking much of her tone. "Relaxing."

She stepped into his line of sight. "I hate that shit. Put it out."

He raised an eyebrow. "Come _on_, Allison." He brought his hand to his mouth again.

She snatched the end of the slim paper tube and tossed it out into the lawn.

"Hey!" Leonard hopped up, making a motion to jog out into the lawn and find it.

She grabbed onto his shirt, twisting the collar. "Next time you touch any of that shit I am gone, Leonard!"

"What? What the fuck do you care? We're not even together, remember?" Throwing her words back into her face felt good. He was tired of being the saint. He stared into her eyes, glowering.

"Are you trying to make sure it never happens?" she replied, eyes narrowed, hand jerking reflexively at his collar.

Leonard stepped back slightly. Leave it to her to use something like that to hang over his head. He scowled and swatted at her hand. "Keep your fucking hands off me."

From her expression it was obvious she had not expected his reaction to that. "What?"

"If we're not together you have no reason to touch me," he said. "So don't."

She jerked her hands down to her sides. They both stood silent, at a stand-off, staring each other down. Neither seemed willing to be the one who would back off.

Leonard was the first to make a move. He simply turned around and walked around to the front of the house. He picked up his basketball and dribbled it absentmindedly to the end of the driveway. The sun was just beginning to lower in the sky, casting long shadows from the nearby trees. He turned around to take a jump shot but was surprised to see her walking toward him. She was halfway between him and the basket and approaching quickly.

"Leonard, don't turn your back on me."

He set up his shot again and took it. It bounced off the backboard and into the grass. "Are you being literal, or metaphorical?"

"What? You just turned your fucking back on me and walked away."

"So, literal then."

She scoffed. "You are such a _nerd_."

"Listen, Allison. I am simply trying to unwind after a long week. You might not realize it, but living with you is a lot of work. So I am trying to relax and not deal with any drama. Can you handle that?"

She scowled, insulted. "What do you mean, 'drama'?"

"The usual definition of the word drama?" Leonard shook his head and headed over to his basketball. He put it in its place on the front porch and opened the door. She was following him.

"You did it again, Leonard!"

"Okay, no." Leonard wheeled around to gesture in her face. "This is not happening right now. See, I am going upstairs, and I am going to get myself another joint, and I am going to enjoy it. In peace. Alone. All right?"

"No." Allison's anger shone in her eyes.

"What in the _hell_, Allison. If I'm not with you, and you're not with me, then there is no damn reason for you to object."

Another stand-off. But the anger in Allison's eyes dimmed. Her next words were uncharacteristically pleading and sincere. "Leonard, come on. Do it for me, huh?"

Leonard just stared at her. He started up the stairs.

She pounded up the stairs after him. "Leonard! I meant what I said! You pick up another joint and I'm going to hitchhike to Nebraska!"

In the time it took him to walk into his room and grab the pack of joints, she had climbed the stairs to her room and slammed the door. He walked across the hall and opened it. She was angrily stuffing her clothes into her school bag. He tossed the pack onto her bed. She froze, staring at it.

He couldn't help but look at it wistfully for a second before turning and trudging away. He had bought a pack of twelve and he still had six of them left. _Stupid fucking waste of money_. Half of him—okay, more than half—wanted to turn around and snatch them back up. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he entered his bedroom.

Just for the change of pace, he clambered over the railing of the top bunk and stretched out with his head at the foot end of the bed. That's how he felt, out of kilter and upside down. He was starting to wonder if this whole thing was worth it. Maybe he should let her take care of her own problems. She had obviously been fine finding her own sleeping arrangements in the past.

He heard her footsteps go down the hall, followed by the flushing of the toilet. The footsteps padded up the hall. She was standing in his doorway now. She didn't say anything, just stood there.

"Go away." He rolled onto his side to face the wall.

Her footsteps faded away and silence reigned. Leonard shut his eyes, wallowing in self-pity. Sleep soon overtook him, and he didn't notice when she came in and turned out the light.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Send a Message to Her - Beck  
_Leonard is confused and distressed by the goings-on but he still finds himself doing things for her benefit_


	10. Chapter 10

Allison was walking toward him, finally—it was half an hour after school had been dismissed. It wasn't every day she expressed intentions to go back to his house after school, but on those occasions she did, she ought to have enough common courtesy to be punctual. He quit leaning on the car and called out to her. "You know, one of these days I'm just going to leave without you and you're going to have to walk home."

She looked him right in the eye and flipped him off before opening the passenger door and slinging her bag in before her.

"Classy." He climbed in the driver's seat and looked over at her. "You don't think I'd do it, do you?"

"I'm not obligated to do whatever it is you think I should do," she said.

He snorted. "What the fuck does that mean?"

She inclined her head with a defiant scowl. "It _means_ don't hold things over my head, Leonard. If you need to go home without me, then go. I know you're always looking forward to having a hot date with that physics book of yours."

His hands clenched the steering wheel. It was annoying how she got on his case for being so diligent. He was only doing it because of her. "Fine, then. Don't come back to me later annoyed about how much walking you have to do." He'd nearly been late to work more than once because of waiting on her—well, that wasn't going to happen anymore.

"Whatever," she said.

"I'm serious, I don't want to hear a word about it."

Her mouth twisted into a slight sneer. "Just shut up about it, why don't you?"

"Just making sure you got the picture." He glanced over at her a moment later to see her gazing out the window. Yup, they were back to normal, all right. Whatever she'd been trying to prove, as far as he was concerned, she'd made her point. Unless something drastic happened he didn't see a relationship between them even being put on the table.

When they arrived at the house she disappeared into her room to do her homework, or whatever it was she got up to. He didn't care. For his part, since it was his day off, he settled at the dinette table to spread his homework out on its surface. He had more room here than at the small desk in his room. He looked at everything after it was laid out and sighed. He'd be glad when the school year was over and he got something of a break from all of this. After graduation would come more work, and eventually, college, but he'd take that as it came.

When Lawrence arrived from work, earlier than usual, Leonard was still sitting there.

"Hey," Lawrence greeted him.

Leonard kept his attention on his homework. "Hey."

His father headed to the kitchen, keeping up his usual routine. "Hard at work, I see. You've been doing really well. Will talked to me the other day and he said so too."

"Yeah," Leonard said. "But it's not like working there is hard."

"Even so." Lawrence moved to the stove with a pan and put it on the heat. "Rent's due next week. I suppose you have that in hand?"

"I will." Leonard had been carefully keeping track of the numbers so he'd have exactly what he needed at the time that he needed it. As far as he was concerned the rest of what he earned was his to do with as he wished.

"Good," Lawrence replied. "I'd hate to have to follow through on the consequences if you were to slack off."

Leonard scoffed lightly. "You mean you don't want to see her homeless any more than I do."

"No, I don't." Lawrence dug through the cabinet. "This has been a good experience for _her_ as well, I think. Even if you two don't get along, things are stable for her. I think it'd be unfortunate—" He paused for a long moment. "Leonard, have you been drinking my liquor?"

"No," Leonard said, just a little too quickly, dropping his eyes to his book.

Lawrence brought the bottle over to the table and sat down across from his son. "Leonard, you've been granted a lot of freedom in the way I've raised you. Don't take advantage of that. You know it's one thing to have a shot with permission and under supervision. Stealing a drink from the bottle isn't what I expect of you, especially with the lessons you've been learning lately about responsibility."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "There's just a lot of pressure on me right now."

"There's always going to be pressure on you. That's part of life." Lawrence sighed. "I don't want to see you make the mistakes your mother made, Leonard. She used alcohol as an escape and eventually it got to be out of her control. You know how she hurt me, how she hurt us both, when she decided to leave."

"I know." Leonard had heard plenty of stories about his mother's mistakes, enough to last him a lifetime. He rubbed his forehead. "But I don't think this is fair. Allison could have gotten into it too." Because he was sure he hadn't drunk enough for his father to notice.

"Fair enough," his father said. He picked up the bottle and looked over the label. "I'll find some other place to keep it."

"Good 'cause I don't want to get blamed for something I didn't do."

Lawrence gave his son a stern look.

Leonard sat back in his chair, gesturing with a half-shrug. "Just saying, that's all."

"Watch how you 'just say' things." Lawrence went to his room to tuck the bottle away somewhere, and Leonard started packing up his things. After that conversation he didn't want to sit here to finish his work.

Leonard had a lot on his mind when he went to bed that night. Now he had neither of his preferred vices to indulge in—no alcohol, no pot—and no time to just veg out if he felt like it. It made him feel like life was closing in on him. He turned over, rolling onto his side. He considered getting up and utilizing his weight bench to try to work some of this nervous energy out. Instead he turned back onto his back and curled his arm under his head, shutting his eyes. Skipping school, just one day, for a break, sounded like an appealing option, but he just had this feeling his father would see through it if he tried to claim he was sick.

Leonard fell asleep eventually, but as he slept he found himself in a state of twilight, partly asleep and partly worrying about all of his responsibilities. His consciousness was easily aroused when the foot of the bed dipped, the mattress shifting as another person weighted down the bed. She seemed to be crawling across the length of the bed gingerly, trying to keep from jostling him. But there was no mistaking the bulk of another person settling in next to him. "Allison?" he muttered.

She turned on her side with her back to him, wriggling as she shifted against the covers. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing here?"

There was a pause before she answered. "I had a nightmare, okay?" she said defensively. "Just let me stay here."

It didn't seem like her to have nightmares that bad. He frowned. "Stay on that side of the bed," he said, scooting away slightly.

"Yeah, whatever," she muttered. They both went quiet then, but he was wide awake. He didn't feel any temptation like he had the last time she'd been in his bed. She seemed to fall asleep almost immediately and he listened to her breathing. This was why he was doing this, all of it. So that Allison could have some peace. _I'm such a sap_, he thought to himself.

Before he knew it he was awakening before the alarm. He slipped out of bed and left the alarm set so that she would wake up after he was gone. He had a feeling if he asked about her dream later on she'd become defensive and refuse to tell him any details, so he decided not to address it.

Unfortunately, it seemed to set a precedent. He didn't even bother to question her about it when she joined him several more times over the next weeks. It seemed better just to ignore it and let her do what she needed to do. He always handled it the same way, getting up and leaving her behind. It became like a carefully executed dance, one he soon learned all the steps to.

At school these days she behaved towards him as she always had, antagonizing him before English class (not his strong suit, and she knew it), snatching up bits of food from his lunch as she passed in the lunch room, and just being a pain towards him in general. As far as anyone around them would know, nothing had changed between them. She kept up the appearance that there was no recent history that might make things awkward between them, and he had no choice but to follow suit. As far as he knew none of her friends had been told anything. And in reality it was best that way. They could do without the rumors.

It was now near the end of the school year, and graduation was fast approaching. It had that unreal quality, knowing that a long-desired goal was within grasp. There were events meant only for the graduating seniors, culminating with a special breakfast the week before graduation was meant to take place.

He drove her there, as usual, and picked a seat near the back. The round decorated tables were set for eight, and he knew between his friends and friends-of-friends the table would be filled shortly. The sentiments his friends had expressed to him were similar to his own—he was ready for high school to be over so he could move on, start college, get a degree and make a career for himself. He had pulled up his physics grade, thankfully making it so he had a lot of possibilities in choosing a major and a university to attend. He should be successful at anything he put his mind to doing. It was just a matter of staying on top of things.

Leonard looked over when someone settled into the chair beside him. It was Allison. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What are you doing?"

She spread her hands to indicate the table and the chair. "Sitting down? What's it look like?"

"Uh, okay." He'd expected her to want to sit with her friends, but she obviously was going to do whatever she wanted to.

Jimmy settled in at his other side and Leonard glanced at him. "Hey Church, hey Allison."

"Hi," Allison said, sitting back and crossing her legs. She was wearing an outfit she had convinced Leonard to buy for her—otherwise she wouldn't have had something suitably dressy, she had claimed. He wasn't sure why he'd let her talk him into that. He'd actually had a few dollars to himself after a couple of months of paying rent for her and there he went and blew it on what he had to admit was a stunning outfit on her. He'd never seen her dressed up, to tell the truth, so he'd never seen her in a tailored blouse like this one, which she'd paired with a pair of pinstriped slacks and heels.

"You look nice," Jimmy said.

"Thanks," Allison said, smiling demurely. "Nothing like a new outfit to make you feel good."

"You don't need new clothes to look good," Jimmy replied.

Allison raised her eyebrows, smirking, apparently flattered. "Trying to get on my good side, Jimmy?"

"It'd be a good place to be," Jimmy said, and Allison laughed.

"I like you," she said.

Leonard looked around a bit, then settled back into his seat. He didn't have any right to feel jealous of that exchange. Jimmy was a friend, but Allison was her own person, and there was nothing to prevent the two of them from flirting, even if Leonard wished they wouldn't.

Slowly, people filtered into the room and friends of each of them settled into the other seats at the table. Conversation died off when the principal made her way to the front and started things off with a small prepared speech.

The speeches given by members of their class were at some points touching, but Leonard hadn't been as involved as some of the speakers had been. He had never worked on the school newspaper or participated in the marching band. He hadn't participated in the school trip to Washington. These recollections simply didn't resonate with him. He looked down to fidget with his napkin and realized Allison was looking at him. His attention was drawn toward her and she grinned, looking down to hide the smile behind her hair.

His eyebrows narrowed slightly in confusion but he put his attention back on the speaker. This really was boring. And Allison was looking at him again. "What?" he whispered and she shook her head, still smiling.

When the meal was served he turned toward her. "What was that?" he asked her. "Was he saying something funny? I didn't get it."

She shrugged. "Nah, I was just bored."

"You're weird." Still, it was nice to be able to be this relaxed around her for once. He turned ever so slightly in her direction.

"You're the one who wants to be a scientist," she said with a laugh.

"Hey, I have ambition. That's a good thing."

"I think you always have," Allison said.

"What makes you say that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "Just something about the way you and your dad talk," she said.

"Well, he helps me a lot. He didn't get a lot of support growing up so he makes a point of it."

"He should be glad you turned out so well." She pointed at him with her fork. "But don't let that go to your head."

"It's already there," he said, laughing. "I didn't know you felt that way, Allison."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "Hey, you may be an asshole, but that doesn't mean you're not going to be successful."

He couldn't believe it when he found that they were both done eating and realized they had continued to pleasantly converse the entire time. The seniors were free to leave the school once the breakfast was over. Allison walked out of the room ahead of Leonard. By the time he got to his car she was lounging in the passenger seat, one foot propped up against the dash. She watched him as he lowered himself into the driver's seat. Leonard glanced at her as he started the ignition and then pulled the car forward out of the parking lot.

Allison ruffled her hair with outspread fingers. "It was _so_ _hot_ in there. There were just too many people for that room to handle." She paused, her hands still on her head, and gave him a sly smile. "Don't you think so, Church?"

_Really subtle on the double entendre there._ She had to know how that position stretched her shirt over her breasts. His body was definitely responding to her flirting. It hadn't taken much, he thought to himself with some irritation. She just had to offer up a little friendly conversation and shoot some smiles in his direction and she had him in the palm of her hand. He gripped the steering wheel, willing his eyes to stay on the road. "Yeah, it was, uh…it was pretty thick in there."

"It's been a while since I've felt heat like that. I can't wait until we get home and we can, you know. Cool down." Allison angled her hips toward him in the seat. He involuntarily glanced at her and saw the suggestive smirk on her face. Leonard felt his Adam's apple bob up and down.

"I was thinking, maybe you could sleep in my room tonight. It would save me having to come down to your room. Since I have the bigger bed, and all. Hey, what's wrong, Church? You feel okay?"

_As if you don't know._ He clenched his jaw. The temptation to give in and flirt back was strong. In his mind he was already touching her skin and smelling her hair.

She reached over and nudged his arm. "Earth to Church."

Leonard made an abrupt right turn onto a residential street. He parked in front of the first house and turned to look at her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"What? I'm just trying to talk to you."

"Don't fuck with me, Allison. Why are you flirting with me?"

She tilted her head with a sly smirk. "What's wrong, Leonard? You can't handle it?"

Leonard narrowed his eyes, looking at her with suspicion. "I'm just wondering _why_."

Allison scoffed. "Hey, maybe I just really want to fuck you tonight. How's that?" She nearly laughed when Leonard let the silence hang, not taking his eyes off of her. "What, Leonard? Is that so hard to believe?"

"No. I'm just thinking about how when I first brought you to live in my house. You seemed pretty sure I was bringing you there just to take advantage of you. I think you said I was trying to make you into my 'own little whore.'" Allison started to protest, but he continued speaking. "So, I'm just wondering how in your mind it would be wrong for me to use you, but there's no problem if you want to use me."

Allison's jaw dropped and she turned to look at him in shock. "Use you?" Her mouth fished for words for a moment before she snapped it closed, scowling.

"Yes, I said you use me. You come into my bed for your own comfort without even considering how I feel about it."

"I haven't heard you complain—"

"Well, you can hear it now," he said. "I think we agreed that if you are not going to be with me, you're not going to touch me. So unless this is your way of saying yes…"

Allison was utterly speechless. A red flush was creeping up her neck and cheeks. She whipped her head to look out the passenger-side window. "Just fucking drive home."

Leonard had to sneak a smile. He had won an argument. And was she pissed about that.

When he pulled up in front of the house she didn't even wait until he had shifted into park before she opened the door and leapt out, slamming the door behind her. It was too bad, they'd actually made plans to hang out, but sitting down and being civilized was not going to be on her agenda right now. Well, that was on her head, not his. Maybe he'd get dressed more casually and go out instead. That actually sounded pretty good. He had to work the next couple of days, so taking an afternoon to himself might be nice.

It wasn't until he came back down from changing that she confronted him. "You better not be trying to get away from me."

"What if I am?" It was none of her business, that was what.

She frowned. "I want to talk," she said, a small amount of reluctance showing by the way she hesitated.

"Oh yeah?" He crossed his arms. "So talk."

"Well, it's not going to happen if you act like that about it." She shot him a look and then shook her head. "Forget it."

"No, no, you started it." He uncrossed his arms, though, tilting his head to gesture for her to continue. "Talk."

She scowled at him. "It's not like this is easy." She rubbed her arm with the opposite hand and looked past him. "You're right."

"I…am?" Not that it wasn't nice to hear, but he couldn't think of what she was referring to. "About what?"

"About me being selfish," she said impatiently. "I didn't want to commit to anything, so I just decided to be a bitch about it and play both sides."

"Uh-huh." For just a second he took that at face value, ready to dismiss it and tell her to forget it, when her wording struck him. "Wait, what do you mean 'commit'?"

"Leonard…" She still seemed to be struggling with what she meant to say, and she paused before pressing on. "I'm trying to tell you…" Her eyes met his; they were soft, an expression he'd never seen on her face. She was speaking nakedly, sincere. "I'm trying to say, that if you want a relationship with me, I don't even know what this means, but I'm saying yes."

He could have answered her, but instead he was holding on to her, kissing her impatiently, and she didn't hesitate to meet him. All this waiting and she gave in this easily, letting him guide her to the stairs, half lifting her up with him, tumbling up the stairs like gravity had reversed. He lifted her again, hands groping at her breasts eagerly, nearly shoving her forward as he headed into his room, but she laughed and shifted her hands between them to press him away slightly. "Pace yourself," she teased him, finding her feet. "You really want to go in there and use the bunk bed again?"

He scoffed, catching her arm before letting go. "I just have to grab a condom," he said, as though he'd been planning to head into her room all along.

"You'd better remember that, for as long as I made you wait," she teased, backing into the hallway.

"Well, it wasn't easy." He returned and pressed another kiss to her mouth, swallowing whatever reply she started to make, picking her up completely this time.

The difference this time was clear. He could tell it now, how she had kept herself separate from him the last time. He grabbed her about the waist, stroking his hands firmly along her sides as he guided her to back up against the bed. "Allison," he muttered, taking a moment to regard her. She pulled away slightly and took off her blouse, unbuttoning it as he watched. Her hands lingered as she finished the motion, and then she let it fall off her shoulders. There was a look of vulnerability in her eyes, something she'd never allowed him to see before. It was fascinating, watching the change in her as she opened herself up to his affections.

He helped her finish undressing as she did the same for him, and he lifted her once again to lay her back on the bed. Her touch was rough as her hands passed over his back, grazing his skin with her nails, squeezing at his arms, her gasps and sighs spurring him on as he pressed into her. She was submitting to him, to this, to being his, to letting him…was it love? It seemed like such a serious word to use for what they had but as he took in the sight of her as her head threw back against the pillow, an utterance of pleasure passing her lips, he knew. He was in love with her.

And when they were done, when he returned from cleaning up, he laid back down and rested his head on her chest. Her gaze was out into the room. He propped himself up to kiss her. "Hey," he muttered. "You okay?"

She nodded, smiling slightly, before glancing away again. "Yeah. Fine."

She was lying.

But how could she explain it to him, how vulnerable this made her feel? This wasn't just meaningless sex, something she was well familiar with. She knew how to handle that. It would last for a time, and then it would be over and she could drift to the next address. But this… This was a feeling of closeness, of truly being wanted, of having a home, of _belonging_ in a way she had never imagined.

And something about that terrified her.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

My Sundown - Jimmy Eat World  
_Leonard takes the pressure his father is putting on him to be responsible and does his best to prove himself capable_

Mayonaise - Smashing Pumpkins  
_The story of Leonard's life includes the legacy of his mother's failures_

Arms - Christina Perri  
_Allison feels at home for the first time in her life. She's not sure she's ready for something like that._

More Than Anyone - Gavin DeGraw  
_Leonard and Allison come together_


	11. Chapter 11

Leonard's eyes opened. Momentarily disoriented, he remembered the events of the day before in a flash. Allison was his girlfriend now. He was lying in her bed on the other side of the house, so that was why the sunlight looked wrong. He scooted closer to her and she stirred.

"Mmm. Good morning," she said when she opened her eyes and saw him, stretching.

"Hi, baby." He kissed her. She let out a little scoffing sound at the moniker but didn't comment on it. It must not have bothered her too badly—she was smiling. "We slept in," he added. "I have to go to work soon."

She grabbed at his shoulder and tried to make him lie down again, a sly smile spreading on her face. "Call off. They won't miss you."

Leonard's reluctance made his voice falter. "I can't. You're only allowed to live here if I go to class and to work." Now that school was over, that part didn't matter, but he couldn't call off for something like this. "You can handle me being gone a few hours."

She pursed her lips in a pout. "I can, I just don't want to."

He was wavering. He ran his hand up and down her arm, sighing. He just couldn't let himself give in. "You can't always get what you want." He kissed her cheek. "Please don't tempt me anymore, Allison."

Her disappointment lasted only a moment longer. She smirked. "You want to take a shower then?"

Suddenly he felt like that awkward schoolboy again, shy and intimidated. "You mean…with you?"

She smiled. "What else?"

He pressed in to kiss her. "You're full of good ideas, you know that?"

"Don't forget it," she teased. The two of them rose then, and made their way to the bathroom. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she set the shower and slipped in ahead of him. "Come on," she encouraged with a laugh. "You act like you've never seen me naked before."

He climbed into the tub next to her, drawing the curtain. "Every time I see you it's like the first time."

"Aw, so sweet," she said, running a finger down the center of his chest. "Did you write that in your notebook?"

He rolled his eyes. Of course she'd remember about seeing her name in his notebook. "Hey, you should be flattered, with the way you've been treating me."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm going to let that one slide."

"That's 'cause you know I'm right."

"No, it's because I thought you'd like to avoid an argument." She gave him a look before she stepped back to get under the stream of water, raising her hands to smooth over her hair.

He rubbed his chin, running his nails through the scruff of beard, and watched her. "You're pretty good at being distracting," he finally said, deciding to listen to her and drop it.

"You noticed." She grinned and stepped closer. "Why don't you get wet, Leonard?"

It was hard not to linger in there for too long, but eventually the water started to cool and he reluctantly shut it off. "I've got to shave, and then I've got to leave."

"Want me to bring you your clothes?" she asked, wrapping herself in a towel.

"Yeah, that'd be great." He stepped to the mirror and started slathering his face with shaving cream. By the time he was done shaving she'd returned, dressed for the day. "You're going to be late," she said, almost triumphantly.

"Mhm." At this point he didn't care. The last twenty-four hours had been great and getting a strike for being late wasn't going to bother him after that.

Work was entirely different that day. Leonard found himself smiling in the middle of mopping or filling orders, thinking of Allison's milky white skin and her blond hair, of water cascading down her body and wet kisses, instead of whatever he was supposed to be thinking about. Normally if he needed to concentrate on something he was able to compartmentalize any distractions and banish them from his thinking, but thoughts of his now-requited love were all-consuming—for at least one day. He kept making mistakes—dropping someone's ice cream cone, scooping the wrong flavor up for someone else, stupid little things like that. It was kind of embarrassing, but it was also hard to care.

"I know that look," Will said, stopping in the break room where Leonard was eating a hot dog.

He glanced up at his boss. "What look?"

"That stupid grin on your face." Will stepped further into the room, taking up a mop to give it a quick pass it over the break room floor. "Who's the lucky one?"

"Oh," Leonard said. "You met her one time a while back. Allison."

Will grinned. "The blonde?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised you remember that."

"I remember everyone. And their orders." Will headed toward the door of the room again. "Make sure to treat her right."

"I don't intend to do anything else," Leonard said. Really, why wouldn't he? That's what love was about.

Word got around quickly among his few fellow employees about his newly minted relationship. Luckily the number of people who worked in the shop at any one time was fairly small, so he only had to put up with a little teasing. It still irritated him, though.

"Hey, Church," said John, a fellow-student from school. "I'm surprised, I always thought you'd hook up with something a little less dangerous, like a bear."

He tried to take the remark in good humor. "Yeah, well, you know, I'm a real risk-taker."

"You'd better be," John said with a laugh.

Leonard stifled the temptation to get defensive about John's remarks. He had a reputation around here as a good employee and as much as he wanted to snap at him about the teasing, he didn't want to ruin that image.

At the end of his shift he decided to get himself and Allison a couple of sundaes. He remembered her favorite combination—black cherry with fudge—and he went around the counter to pay after he put them together.

"For you and your girl, huh?" his coworker, Deshawn, teased him as he rang the order up.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, for me and my girl." He didn't like how it kept coming up. He pulled out his wallet and opened it.

He didn't believe what he was seeing. He stared. Most of his money was gone.

"Something wrong?" Deshawn asked.

"No, nothing's wrong." He was sick of interacting with his coworkers tonight and this situation certainly didn't make things any better. He gave Deshawn the payment and turned with the sundaes to leave. He was starting to feel his blood boil. It had only taken him a moment to realize what must have happened. Allison had had access to his wallet when she'd gone to get his clothes. But why would she have gotten into it? He set the sundaes on the front seat and buckled his seatbelt. He nearly wrenched the gearshift when he took off. She had been poor and homeless before he took her in. All she'd needed to do to get whatever she wanted from him was exactly what she had done—tell him she was ready for a relationship, bringing him under her spell. Had it really all been a ruse? A manipulation so she could take what she could with her and run?

The drive home seemed to take twice as long as usual. By the time he got back to the house he was ready for a confrontation, though he was more than half-suspecting she would be gone.

Lawrence's car was in the driveway, unusual for this early in the day. At least Leonard would have someone to rant to. He went ahead and grabbed the sundaes, prepared to throw hers in the garbage as soon as he got in the house. This whole thing was bullshit.

The sight that greeted him was the last thing he expected. The first thing he saw was Allison putting the finishing touches on the spread at the table. A messily decorated cake sat on the counter. "What's this?" he asked, confused.

"A graduation dinner!" Allison said. She was clearly pleased at his reaction, his apparent surprise.

Leonard raised his brows, trying to keep his recent anger from showing. He hoped the red had drained from his face. "Wow," he said lamely.

"She's been looking forward to this moment all day, I think," Lawrence chuckled from where he sat on the couch. His plate was mostly clear and he stood up with it. "I promised her she could have the evening alone with you, so I'm going to head out."

"Uh…okay." Leonard went over to the freezer to put the sundaes inside, then passed his hand over his hair as he turned around. He watched as his father placed his plate in the sink and then went through the front door. He waited until it closed to express his confusion. "What was he even doing here?"

"I called him." Allison gestured toward the table. "Come on, it's getting cold."

He went over to the table and pulled his chair out to sit down, looking the food over. For a moment it almost looked like the steak was made of rolled up dollar bills. How much of the money she had stolen would end up being swallowed tonight? He settled into his chair and looked at her. "You called him?" he asked, still confused.

"Yeah. I got the idea to do this earlier and I needed his help to get to the store. And to help me cook, 'cause otherwise I had no idea what I was doing," she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "So he took me to the store, and he helped me pick out a good cut of steak and fresh eggs…"

With that Leonard banished the thought of confronting her from his mind. No use thinking about that now. He was going to have some trouble recovering from the financial blow this would cause, but there was no point in rubbing her face in the mistake.

As she spoke he stopped really paying attention to the words and just let them wash over him. He couldn't deny the steak was good. It was tender and the sautéed onions on top were just the right complement.

"Leonard!"

"Hmm, what?"

"Why aren't you talking to me?"

"Oh, I'm just…really enjoying this food. It's good stuff." He looked away from her stare. "Really, it's good."

"What's your problem?"

"Who said there's a problem?"

She scowled. "You did. When you sat there ignoring me when I was talking to you."

They sat in silence and Leonard took another bite. He should have been listening. He didn't want to talk to her about the money right now. Save the explanations for later.

"Leonard?"

"Look…it's nothing, okay? It's nothing, not a big deal. We'll talk about it later."

"Talk about what later?"

"Allison, I said it's nothing."

She raised her eyebrows. "If it's not a big deal, then you can tell me what it is."

He shook his head. "It's just that I had a long day at work. Okay? That's all. Just forget it. Hey, you want to get me a slice of cake?"

Allison's eyes were cold. "Sure. Sure, whatever." She went over and served up a slice of cake before walking over his chair and slamming the plate down on the table. She walked back over to her seat and resumed eating her dinner.

The silence was palpable. All sorts of incidental noises were obvious now—the rustling of their napkins, utensils clicking and dragging against plates. He shook his head to himself. This wasn't worth arguing over, he decided. He looked up from his food and frowned.

"Allison? Look…I'm sorry."

Her expression didn't change. "I just wanted to surprise you."

"You did, Allison."

"You don't seem happy with it," she further complained, hunching her shoulders and crossing her arms.

"No, no, I am. I'm glad you did this for me."

She shook her head, still frowning, sullen. No…there was no way that he would ever be able say anything about the money now. Leonard felt the cost of the meal slipping away, like leaves washing down a storm drain. It was no use now. He was going to have to handle it all on his own.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Mount Washington - Beth Orton  
_Allison has her own way of testing Leonard to make sure his love is genuine_

Consequence - The Notwist  
_Leonard decides to shoulder the consequences of Allison's decision to steal his money_


	12. Chapter 12

In the dark Leonard listened to Allison breathing beside him. The first months of their relationship had been stormy. On this particular night he was lying awake worrying about money. _So what else is new?_ He had never found a way to confront her about her stealing the money out of his wallet and he noticed that every week small amounts continued to disappear from his accounting.

To distract himself from the money issue he turned on his side and looked at her profile in the dull glow from the streetlight shining outside of the drawn curtains. As hard as it had been during the months of his self-denial he couldn't have imagined what it was like to be with her. All he knew is that it was a good thing mankind invented make-up sex because they had a lot of it. He felt like everything turned into a full-blown argument if he so much as breathed wrong.

They even argued about his work hours.

After graduation he had started working full time. It was almost the end of the summer now and she hated that he hadn't been around as much as she wished. He never told her he had only decided to pick up the extra time to make up for her stealing from him. How could he tell her that? He knew that he should probably get a bank account and quit keeping so much cash in his wallet, but it had been so easy to put that off. As much as they fought he loved spending all his free time with her, so he never managed to take the time to head out to the bank.

_You're thinking about money again. _ He tried to refocus his mind on Allison. The aftermath of the graduation dinner was a favorite memory. After they had enjoyed their slices of the sumptuous yellow cake—it looked terrible, but the flavor was excellent—they had cleaned up the kitchen together. Somehow in the course of the cleanup (and flirting) Allison had splashed a huge wave of water from a pan that was soaking onto the front of her shirt. All plans to finish cleaning dissipated when they headed upstairs for her to change. The damp embrace, the passionate kiss, and then her smile when she told him she should be the one to blow out the candle.

_Okay, maybe thinking about blow-jobs when Allison is asleep isn't such a good idea either._ He shifted to press himself against her hip. He wished he could wake her up but he'd already learned what a bad idea that could be. He had already spent a few nights in his old bed after being kicked out because of her temper. Somehow sleeping in his childhood bunk bed was extremely humiliating. It was strange, that old bed had seemed fine to him before.

_Maybe I could go to the bank in the morning._ He just had to keep himself from leaving for work late this time. He was always squealing into the employee parking at the last possible second because Allison would choose the time when he was supposed to be getting ready to start coming on to him. Supposed goodbye kisses would escalate until more than once he had to abandon a potential encounter just to leave.

_Okay, and now you're thinking about sex again._ He really needed to get to sleep just to stop going round and round on impossible topics. He would have to think about it in the morning. He couldn't deal with the money problem without a fight with Allison and he couldn't take care of his hormones right now because Allison would kill him.

He finally managed to start dozing off, but not before one final thought ran through his mind. _Leonard Church, my man: You are so fucking whipped._

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Better Man - James Morrison  
_Leonard has made a point of being responsible so that he can enjoy the life he has built_


	13. Chapter 13

"You sure you have to go?" she pouted from her spot under the covers. "I thought they didn't open until ten."

"Yeah…my boss wants to teach me some new procedures." He kept his back turned while he pulled on his uniform shirt. He wasn't the best liar and he wanted to avoid looking her in the face.

"Well, come here and give me a kiss, huh, Leonard?"

"A kiss," he said firmly, turning and approaching the bed. "I don't have time for anything more."

She gave him a coy smile. "You could always pretend you never got his message."

"What are you talking about, we talked in person about it. There's not going to be any pretending." He leaned in and she took his hand to place it on her waist. "Don't worry, I'm going to try to get off early," he said as they pulled apart.

"Mm, okay. Maybe I'll try and cook something today."

He grinned. She'd been learning, but it was kind of hit and miss. "I'll try and enjoy it, then." She smacked him lightly with the back of her hand and he laughed. "See you later, baby."

She sighed with a shake of her head, still smiling. She'd gotten on his case about calling her that, but he hadn't stopped. "Keep calling me that and I'll keep calling you Church."

"Deal," he said, and she laughed. "You think I care?"

"Fine then, Church. Have a good day."

He couldn't believe it until he'd actually walked out the door and pulled the car away from the house. He'd managed it. He'd actually managed to leave early so could run to the bank to deposit the cash in his wallet in a new account. It was a relief. He would be able to keep his money in the bank and he didn't have to confront Allison about her stealing. He almost felt bad about feeding her that little white lie about being called in early, but the way he figured it, it was justified. He needed to stop the financial hemorrhage she was causing. He had been able to get caught up after the graduation dinner, but just barely. He didn't want to have to deal with another situation like that one again.

As promised, he managed to get out of work early and he smiled to himself as he headed back. He was starting to feel like a real adult. Not only would he be starting college soon, he had a girl waiting for him at home, a weekly paycheck, and a bank account. Life was good.

He parked the car and got out. The blinds were open and he could see her through the front window before he came in the house. The evening was still young enough that none of the heat of the summer day had faded. She had out all the fixings for a big dinner salad on the counter. He had to smile, knowing how inept she had been in the kitchen just a few months ago, and how she was doing this just to make him happy. Imagine that, he thought. Allison doing something just to make him happy.

He went in the house and walked up to her. She barely took her attention away from what she was doing as she tore up the lettuce leaves and plonked them into the bowl. "Hey, Leonard," she mumbled.

He pressed up to her back, putting his arms around her chest and burying his face in her hair. He loved her smell, the way her hair felt as it glided across his skin, the fact that when he did it she got goose bumps. After a moment, he let his grip on her tighten and rested his cheek on the soft skin of her neck.

"Why are you doing that, asshole?" she asked, with a slight note of exasperation to her tone. "I'm busy here."

"I can help you," he offered, straightening up. He kept his arms threaded under hers, grabbing the tomato and the cutting board to chop the tomato into pieces.

"You can't do it like that; come stand beside me," she complained.

"I just want to hold you," he muttered, knowing it sounded kind of pathetic. He expected her to call him a pussy or kick him in the shin with her heel, but she just let it go.

They kept working on it in this position, and she didn't protest again. He nuzzled into her hair momentarily a couple of times, so glad that for whatever reason she'd decided to put up with his sentimental behavior.

Her hands were slowing at their work, and he glanced at the side of her face to see that her eyes were closed. It was ever so subtle, but her head was tilted, her shoulder slightly dropped, as though she were anticipating him—or encouraging him—to kiss her neck. He put down the knife and wiped his hands on the nearby towel, wrapping his arms around her again. He lowered his face, but only brushed his lips against her, gently, like the touch of a butterfly's wings, for the briefest moment.

That set her trembling. "I love you so much," he murmured in her ear.

She licked her lips, swallowing before she spoke. "You know what's amazing?" she breathed.

He lowered his lips to the spot beneath her ear and ran them in a curve that followed just below her hairline. "What?" he finally managed.

She grabbed his arms with her hands, then deftly turned around to press herself against him. "When you say that, I believe it."

They never did get around to finishing that salad.

"What time are you done?" Allison asked. It was the following weekend, and that day was the beginning of a three-day street fair downtown. Several blocks off the main drag would be blocked off, and the festivities stretched right past the ice cream shop. Like all the employees, Leonard was scheduled to work a limited shift, four hours, each day of the fair.

"Two o'clock," he said, pulling up his work pants and fastening them. "I'll pick you up right after. Just make sure you're ready."

"Good because I want to ride all the rides," she teased him. "Including the ones that go upside-down."

"You talk like you think I won't."

"I don't," she said, coming to stand before him. She was smirking.

He rolled his eyes. "You think you have to dare me to get me to do something? I'll ride anything you want me to ride."

"Good," she said, poking a finger into his chest. "Now are you going to kiss me or what?"

Working that day was little different than usual. It was just more crowded and more hectic. Will was at the helm, as always, his efficiency helping to keep things running smoothly. Leonard was alternating taking orders with him, ringing them up after scooping up their ice cream. He was in his groove, working on getting orders out, when he saw her beautiful face looking back at him over the ice cream freezer.

Allison grinned at him."Hey, mister, can I get a free cone for being hot?"

He smiled back. "Hey, gorgeous! Did you walk all the way down here?"

"Yeah," she said. "I wanted to spend some time wandering around before you got off. I don't have any cash though. Your wallet was empty this morning."

Leonard felt a frown flash across his face before he relaxed it into a more neutral expression. Had he really thought that if he stopped keeping cash around she would never mention it? And of course she had come and said something about it right while he was at work.

He glanced at the clock. At least he'd already stopped at the bank on the way here. With a smile, he scooped up a cone of her favorite flavor, black cherry, and went down to the counter to hand it to her. "Well, I've only got about 45 minutes left. How about you just have that and wait for me until I'm done."

She smiled as he handed her the cone. Her eyes followed his hands as he pulled his wallet out. "Will, I need to pay for this." Will was finishing up an order of his own and he took Leonard's payment after the customer's order was paid for. Leonard glanced up at Allison then. The smile had faded slightly on her face; its insincerity showed in her eyes. When she noticed his look the smile deepened and she nodded before leaving the counter.

"Leonard," Will said, gesturing with a nod, and Leonard looked to see that there were more people waiting at the ordering area. It was back to business now. He shed his annoyance at being called out by his boss and turned to the next customer. As he did he caught a glimpse of Allison wandering around looking for a seat. The shop was crowded with folks who had wandered the street fair and had taken up all the chairs to get off their feet and cool down. The air conditioner was cycling constantly as the door swung back and forth on its hinges. He didn't notice when she meandered outside.

Knowing Allison was waiting on him caused that last 45 minutes to tick by slowly. He was eager to leave when Deshawn, his replacement, arrived. As soon as his fellow-employee crossed the threshold of the door, Leonard stripped his apron.

"Just because your girlfriend's here, it doesn't mean any of the procedures have changed, Leonard," Will said.

"I know," Leonard said, trying not to sound defensive. He tied the apron back around his waist and nodded at Deshawn as he made his way behind the counter. Leonard wasn't supposed to have to do the usual end-of-shift stuff like the trash because he was working a short shift. "I was about to ask if I could go."

Will took another order before finally replying, leaving Leonard standing uselessly by. "You're free to go," Will finally said. Annoyed, Leonard took off his apron and walked out into the dining area. So maybe having Allison show up at his workplace meant he was eager to leave but he didn't think his boss had needed to be that way about it.

He wandered through the dining room. He couldn't find Allison. All the tables were full, and people were milling around, shuffling between tables and greeting acquaintances. He stepped out onto the broad sidewalk. The masses strolled on by, heedless of the way he scanned the crowd for her blond hair. She was fairly tall. He should have been able to see her by now. He felt a twinge of desperation settle into his chest. He couldn't ramble far; if she returned she would expect him to be at the shop. _You mean 'when'. When she returns._ He shook his head. Why was he thinking like that?

He settled into a bus bench that was nearby. _When_ she came back she would be able to see him sitting there.

Ten minutes—ten agonizing minutes—later, he finally saw her, turning the corner at the end of the block and walking in his direction. She was holding something. What was it? Something…pink. Not a lightish red, a very recognizable bright pink color. Cotton candy. Just a few shreds left on a paper cone.

He stood and walked toward her. She smiled and offered the end of her treat to him. He shook his head.

She had seen him glance at it. "I ran into Tony while I was walking around. You know, Tony Martinez? He bought it for me."

Leonard shook his head. "I don't think I know him."

"Oh." She finished picking the shreds off the cone and dropped it in the trash. "I need to run in to the shop and wash my hands."

Leonard stood back and waited, unwilling to go back inside. After the way his shift had ended he wasn't interested in interacting with his boss again. He was left to watch Allison through the plate-glass window, making her way back from the restroom. She had a way of expecting him to submit to her whims no matter what she was doing. In some ways it was endearing, but lately it had seemed nothing but annoying.

She joined him again and they held hands and strolled down the aisle of booths. She knew so many people. She kept waving and letting go of his hand to hug her girlfriends and even some of the guys. Leonard had never thought of himself as a wallflower—of course, he had his own circle of acquaintance and he did see a few people that he considered friends—but he found himself hanging back, time and time again, waiting for her to introduce him when she got into conversations and to come back to his side when she ran off for quick hugs.

"Oh, Leonard! That's Tony!" She pulled him by the hand as she waved towards a gaggle of people.

_I don't know any of those people. I'm not really interested in meeting them, either. I brought her here to have a day together and she keeps wandering away._

He let himself be dragged along. The smiles and laughter and sunburned faces. She was introducing him. He recognized some of them, people from the old neighborhood who were two or three or more years older. They joined the pack, who were like magpies, flitting and wheeling around the booths that held trinkets and T-shirts, the games, and the children's rides.

The girls had started gathering around a booth that sold jewelry. They giggled and pointed and had the salesperson pull the trinkets out of the display cases so they could hold them. Allison was pointing at a necklace in the case. It was a simple black sapphire on a silver chain. Her friend who was standing next to her was telling her how perfect it was for her. She was one of the ones he'd recognized—he had never liked how materialistic she seemed to be. He didn't think Allison needed her encouragement right now.

Then Leonard spotted one of the guys in the group, moving down the line and smiling at the girls. As the young man chatted with them he learned that a couple of them couldn't afford the objects of their desires, and then the man pulled out a wad of bills, paying for the baubles with cash he peeled out with his thick fingers. _Tony_. Leonard remembered the introduction now. Tony smiled and flirted with the girls as he moved down the line. He was almost to the spot where Allison was standing with her friend. He knew right away that if Allison told Tony she wanted that necklace, the wad of bills would emerge and the gem would be hers.

Leonard stepped up from where he stood behind her and pulled her in next to him. "Do you want that?" He nodded his head toward the necklace. The price tag on it showed a price almost equal to the amount of cash in his wallet. It meant a trip to the ATM, but there was no way he was going to let Allison wear a necklace that Tony paid for.

"Yeah," she said, looking at him out of the corners of her eyes, a coy smile playing on her lips.

He pulled his wallet out. The clerk's attention was finally drawn away from the big spender a few paces away. Leonard pointed at the coveted piece. "We want that one."

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

More Than Words - Extreme  
_Allison expects more out of Leonard than lip service_


	14. Chapter 14

Allison sat up, slightly dizzy. The lethargic feeling was gone now that she was awake. The feeling she had put on herself with her heavy drinking, the very act that caused her to end up in this bed.

Allison had never told Leonard when she started leaving the house while he was at work. She needed to be more independent than this. She spent some of that time looking for a job of her own, but there was also that desire to have a separate part of her life that he knew nothing about. Different people to socialize with, different places to go. She knew of a few hangouts from her days in the old neighborhood, houses where people hung out all day and smoked and drank and socialized. More and more throughout the summer she would walk or take the bus down to one of them and hang out there until she needed to be back at Leonard's house. It was where she had met a lot of the friends she had hung out with at the street fair.

It was also how she had met Tony. Tony Martinez was everything Leonard wasn't. He was older, for one thing, had a good job working construction, making him stocky and muscular. Leonard was tall and gangly and slightly awkward, and a bit of a nerd (even though he didn't think so). Tony was a lot more confident; he flirted with everyone and walked with a swagger. She knew that Leonard didn't know him when she told him who bought her the cotton candy, but it was easier to pretend that it was someone he should have known. It was her way of evading questions.

She had seen right through it when Leonard stepped up and bought her that necklace. He didn't buy it because he wanted to—he bought it because he was afraid Tony would. The smirk Tony shot her when Leonard stepped to her side told her that he knew it, too. After that Leonard had led her to a bank kiosk. It was interesting how Leonard suddenly had ATM access. She had wondered where his cash had disappeared to.

After the machine had scanned his thumb, she glanced at the balance over his shoulder. He was keeping a lot of money from her. What had caused him to suddenly become so greedy and untrusting? He'd never said anything on the night of his birthday dinner about her taking money out of his wallet, even though that was clearly what was bothering him. As far as she was concerned this set up an unspoken agreement between them, where he left his cash accessible to her so she could take care of anything she needed. Yet, his lack of trust in her came as no surprise. Maybe she'd meant for it to be this way.

"You good, baby?" Tony was lying with his hands behind his head, leering at her.

There was only one person she let get away with calling her that. Allison grimaced, her face about to crumple. She looked away from him and tried to compose herself. It was all her fault. Her fault for being so stupid as to drink so much, so stupid as to lounge with Tony in the back room while they chatted, her fault for not noticing when everyone else left the room and the door closed. By then she was too far gone to fight back. She tried to whimper out protests but it did no good. She knew this didn't mean anything to him but conquest. It was this life Leonard had tried to save her from, and here she was.

"What time is it?" Her voice was raspy. The alcohol had dehydrated her system. Her hands shook and she clasped them together to still the tremors.

"Too late for the bus. But don't worry baby, I can drop you off if you have somewhere you want to go."

Allison shook her head. She would walk if she had to, but she didn't want to be around Tony anymore. She didn't want to be around this life anymore. She wanted Leonard to hold her and tell her it would be all right. But she knew that wasn't going to happen, not after this. Her eyes kept wetting with tears that she refused to let flow. She arose and got dressed, trying to hold the sheet up around her so that Tony couldn't ogle her one last time. The necklace brushed against her hand as she pulled the sheet up. Tears would not be enough. She fingered the jewel and felt the shame rise in her cheeks. Nothing she did now could be enough.

It took more than half an hour to get home. She cut through backyards and alleyways to make the route shorter. The sound of far-away traffic, dogs barking in the night, the occasional siren wailing serenaded her as she plodded along through the darkness. She was closed in on herself, arms crossed, chin tucked, a miserable expression on her face. She'd ruined the only good thing she'd ever had.

He was sitting on the porch. She saw him before he saw her. Tears threatened once again and she frowned even more deeply. She was off gallivanting around and here he was, faithfully waiting for her. He was leaning on the railing, staring out toward the street, the light from inside the window framing his silhouette. She couldn't look at him, didn't want to face him. She didn't deserve what he'd done for her, never had. But she was here now, it was too late to choose to go somewhere else.

Leonard had been waiting there for her since dusk. That was when he'd started to worry. It wasn't that shocking for her not to have been home when he returned from work, even though she always had been in the past. Part of him reasoned that she must have gone to her mother's house, but he restrained himself from going out there to check. He didn't want her to think he didn't trust her. But he felt so much pressure to get this right. Surely she hadn't decided to simply leave; she'd left all of her things behind. So instead he moved to the porch, and there he worried and waited and wondered.

Finally he spotted her when she entered the circle of light that illuminated the lawn from behind him. He knocked a chair over in his haste to reach her.

"Hey," he said, taking in the look on her face. "You okay? You should have called me for a ride."

She shook her head and pushed past him to enter the house. "I took care of it myself."

He followed. "You didn't have to, though." Wasn't that everything he'd been trying to get her to see since inviting her to stay here? She didn't have to do everything alone.

She came to a stop once they were both inside the house, turning to look at him, her arms folded protectively once again. She might as well get this over with. It would make things easier on the both of them. "Yeah…yeah I did." She reached behind her neck to unfasten the necklace. "And you ought to take this back."

Dimly, in the back of his mind, that registered as a reason for alarm. But outwardly he could only express confusion. "Why? That's yours. I bought it for you. I wanted you to have it."

She dead-eyed him, pausing in her actions for a moment before completing the motion of letting the chain crumple into her hand. Right then he knew she had seen through the whole thing, his motivations when buying it for her. "Don't bother lying," she said with a touch of bitterness. "You're already keeping secrets from me. I'm not stupid."

"Secrets?" He pushed her hand back when she tried to force him to accept the necklace from her. He had wanted to buy her _something_. It was only the timing of it that had looked bad. It had to count for something.

She scoffed. As though he didn't know what she was talking about. "Yeah, secrets. Like hiding your money from me? You can afford to let me take what I need, don't act like you need all that."

"No," he said. "Don't act like you know what I spend my money on, because you don't."

"You don't _buy_ anything, Leonard. I'm the only one who spends it. You're just being greedy."

He rolled his eyes, frustrated. "I'm the one who earns it, Allison. And I spend it all on you anyway."

"No, you don't, cockbite, that's what I just said. You don't buy me things, I buy what I need for myself."

He'd never intended to tell her this, but his rising anger caused the words to spill out before he'd considered what he was saying. "Tell yourself that, because I'm the one who pays your rent, bitch."

Her jaw went slack. "_What_?"

He rubbed his forehead. "Look, I didn't want you to have to worry, okay? But that was the deal. You could stay here if you paid rent or if I did it for you."

She felt her heart drop. "So...that's where your money goes?"

"Yeah." He took in her expression. "You understand, right?"

"Yeah," she muttered. "But you don't want to do that anymore, Leonard. I was mad at you." She tried to put the necklace in his hand again. "I cheated on you."

He accepted it this time, more out of a stunned disbelief than anything. "You cheated on me over this?" he said, opening his hand to display the dark glinting jewel.

"I knew I'd screw this up," she grumbled. "I'll get out tonight, don't worry."

"No," he said, irritated. "You live here. I'm not going to kick you out over this."

She backed up a pace. "You should." She should be left out on the street again after this. But she knew him too well, knew that he meant what he'd said. And she was too selfish not to take him up on staying. Being homeless was no fun.

"Maybe." He frowned at her. "I'm going to get my stuff out of your room."

"Fine," she muttered. She needed to eat something anyway. She waited until she ceased hearing him move around to head upstairs.

The necklace was on her dresser.

What did that even mean? Its presence there seemed to mock her. She didn't want to be able to see it. She frowned and opened her top drawer to sweep the necklace inside.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Ain't No Sunshine – Bill Withers  
_Leonard returns home to find Allison gone and worries about her_

No Air – Serena Ryder and the Beauties  
_When Leonard is told that Allison cheated it hits him like a punch to the gut_


	15. Chapter 15

"So who was that?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. They were returning home after doing the grocery shopping—something he rather wished they didn't need to do together, but they'd found things worked out best that way as far as running the household went. Allison was staring pointedly out the window, her face turned three-quarters away from him.

He couldn't look at her for long since he was driving. But he let the briefest of smirks pass over his face before he made his expression as pointedly neutral as hers. "Who was what?"

She turned her head toward him slightly, still not facing completely forward. "That girl you were talking to at the store. I'm just wondering, she looked familiar." She looked down to fidget with the lint on her clothes, adjusting her shirt.

He shrugged dismissively. "Oh, I don't know. Just seen her around at school."

"You don't need to fucking lie to me anymore, Church. I'm just asking a question."

He bristled a little at that dig. Like he didn't remember that part of the reason they broke up was his lying to her. "And I'm just fucking answering it, Allison. I don't make a big point of learning everybody's name."

"Oh, whatever," she muttered, turning to look out the window again. She didn't say anything else the whole trip home, though he noticed that she kept fidgeting with her hands. It was funny, he thought. She seemed jealous. Something she had no right to be. But he kind of enjoyed it. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten that impression. He'd gone out on a few dates since they'd broken up and there was something about the way she acted in the day or so afterward that seemed odd, sort of like she was exaggeratedly snubbing him. And now this.

"You're going to help me put this stuff away, right?" he asked once they'd reached the house.

"Of course I am, what do you expect?" she said with a roll of her eyes. She got out and slammed the door while he went to the back trunk to get the groceries.

He started to pick up the sacks and sling them over his arms. "I just don't want you to run off like you did last time."

She picked some up as well, grabbing them quickly, like she was trying to beat him to being the last one to grab a bag. "I didn't 'run off', I was sick, remember?"

"Yeah, whatever," he said. "You weren't sick when we were at the store."

She turned her back to him and started heading to the door. "Yes I was. I was just ignoring it."

He followed, keys in hand. "Well, you're not sick now."

She shot him a look over her shoulder. "And I'm fucking helping you now, so drop it."

"Sure, sure. It's just you tend to slack off on the chores, and don't deny it, either." That had been something he'd always allowed to slide when they'd been together, but he wasn't willing to let it go now.

She reached the porch and turned back to face him, her stance aggressive. "You want me to clean, Leonard? Huh? Is that what you're saying?"

"It'd be nice." He went past her to open the door and entered the house. "I can find you the broom, you know, the mop and all that. Since you seem to forget where they're kept."

She put her bags on the counter and backed up, raising her arms in an aggressive posture. "Keep talking, Leonard. Just keep talking."

"Or what?" he said.

She crossed her arms. "Wanna find out? Really?"

He sighed in exasperation. "Look, I'm just asking you to pull your weight. That's all."

"You're really demanding for a landlord, you know that?" She turned and started putting things away in the freezer.

He turned to do the same with the pantry goods. "I just like to remind you to keep up your standards."

"Must be why we're not together anymore," she said.

"Ouch," he said sarcastically. "Just remember who did the breaking up and why."

She shot him a look. "That would be me."

Okay, that comeback hadn't worked. He waved dismissively. "You know what I meant."

"It doesn't matter what you meant." She shut the fridge and turned toward him. "That all or are you expecting me to scrub the house top to bottom right this minute?"

"Don't be a martyr about it." He let the cabinet close and turned to lean on the counter. "Listen, Dad said I ought to ask you about Thanksgiving."

She frowned. "What about it?"

He shrugged. "Well, me and Dad don't do much for holidays. We'll probably just eat dinner out. And yeah, I didn't know that you'd be all that interested in celebrating with us, so if you want, I can take you over to your mom's house."

"Why the hell would I want to go to my mom's house?" she snapped. "If you want to get rid of me just say so."

He shook his head at her with a disbelieving look. "Why the hell would I want to get rid of you? I just told you me and Dad don't make a big deal out of holidays."

"Shut the fuck up," she said. "I don't even know why you bothered to ask when you knew I'd say no. You asshole."

He looked at her for a moment. Her level of offense was so disproportionate it almost seemed to be manufactured. Sure, he knew she had real problems with her mother, but he didn't expect such vitriol over the suggestion she might want to spend some time visiting with her. "Look, I was just trying to be nice. You can join us if you want."

"Okay, and now you're trying to show me pity? Why don't you go choke on a dick." She started for the stairs. "I'll just stay home, thanks."

He watched her go. This was the sort of temper tantrum he knew that she was capable of—making a decision to spite him but only hurting herself. He didn't feel any guilt over it. The only person she was hurting by sulking alone in her room was herself.

When Thanksgiving came, she never left her room.

* * *

It wasn't a particularly chilly day. Christmases in Austin never were. Leonard only needed to throw on a light jacket before he stepped out the patio door. It was overcast, and it almost seemed to be threatening to drizzle as he tapped a cigarette out of the pack and lit it up. There was a bit of a breeze kicking up, and he cupped the burning end of the cigarette in his hand to keep it from being blown out. It was striking sometimes how quiet this day could be. The typical sounds of traffic and of neighbors seemed stifled and the few voices that reached his ears seemed to be the echo of children playing. A glance at the deck chairs told him that they were dirty, and he chose to remain standing as he gazed blankly out into the yard.

The first cigarette had burned to a stub and he dropped it, simultaneously crushing it under his shoe and pulling out a fresh one. Before they'd become estranged from his mother and grandparents, they'd celebrated Christmas with that side of the family, despite his father's Jewish heritage. Since then Leonard and his father had come to enjoy the day as a day of quietude. For that reason they were planning to go out for dinner later. For now, though, he had no obligations and he was free to spend the time in whatever way he desired.

The patio door rumbled open behind him; he didn't make a move to acknowledge the other person as she slipped outside and closed it behind her. Allison stepped forward to stand on a different part of the patio from him, her arms crossed. She was wearing a plain T-shirt and pajama bottoms and her feet were bare. Her hair was loose and gusts of wind tossed it out behind her as she gazed out toward the gray Texas sky.

She seemed melancholy as she stood staring out into the wind. She stood until goosebumps rose on her arms, then shivered suddenly, as if just now noticing the chill in the air. She crossed her arms over each other more firmly and rubbed her upper arms with her hands. Despite himself, for an instant he wished he could put his arm around her and comfort her.

He moved to stand beside her and held out his newly lit cigarette as a peace offering. She glanced at his face and then took the cigarette, drawing on it for a long moment.

"Did you just get up?"

She nodded shortly and took another puff from the cigarette. He'd never quite understood why she was okay with tobacco when she despised pot so much, but he'd never questioned her about it. She reached up with her free hand to push a wayward lock of hair out of her face. The wind seemed to be coming stronger now.

"Listen…," he said. She looked at him sideways from where she stood, not turning toward him. "If you don't have any plans for later, me and Dad are going to go out for dinner. You can join us if you want."

She turned toward him and dropped her cigarette in the grass. "You don't have to take pity on me."

"Allison, don't say no just to spite me. That's what you did on Thanksgiving." Like so many occasions since they had split up, he found himself becoming cross with her attempts to anger him.

She crossed her arms again, tossing her hair back and raising an eyebrow. "Why would I want to spend a holiday with my ex and his dad? I'd rather sit alone in my room."

"Fine, fuck it," he replied in irritation. He turned to walk back into the house. "I'll just hold on to your present then, too. I can use it just as well as you can."

"You got me a present?" She sounded surprised. She followed him in after he opened the patio door. She pulled it shut behind her and ran one of her hands through her hair to rearrange it. "Seriously, you got me a present."

"Well, sort of." He pulled his jacket off as he spoke. "I know you walked out on your job last week. I figured I would give you January's rent for free. That way you'll have a little spending money while you're trying to find another job."

"Well, thanks." She looked at him for a few moments, as though trying to gauge whether he had some ulterior motive or if he was lying. "You sure you want me to come?"

He shrugged. "Look, like I said, if you don't care, then fuck it. I just thought we could act like two civilized people today for once."

"I can do that if you can." Her words seemed to pose a challenge and he raised an eyebrow.

"I won't start any arguments," he said. "Remember that if one starts, 'cause if it does, it's all on your head."

"Oh, whatever." She shook her head. "What time should I be ready?"

"We're planning on leaving for dinner at 6:00."

"I'll be ready," she replied.

As promised, she met them in the front room at the appointed time and they went out to Lawrence's car to make their way to the restaurant. They were seated not long after arriving. Allison sat on the same side of the table as Leonard's father, which Leonard figured was fair. They were going to be civilized, but that didn't mean they were going to act like they were still close. Most of the conversation was taking place between Lawrence and Allison anyway—she'd become much more comfortable, it seemed, with having a father figure in her life. And because Allison had been working second shift until recently, they had some catching up to do. Leonard tuned them out a little bit, busying himself with the bread that their server had set on the table.

"I know it's difficult when you have a temper," Lawrence was saying. "But learning to submit yourself to authority figures in your life is really important."

She sighed and pushed a hand through her hair, rearranging it at the front. "I know that, in theory. I just couldn't sit still for the way he'd been treating me, though."

"It's a fact of life—sometimes you're going to have a boss who's a jerk."

"Someday I'll be someone's jerk of a boss," Allison predicted with a chuckle.

"It's a privilege you'll have to earn," Lawrence said after laughing a moment.

The conversation continued even as the server returned to bring them their food. Leonard shifted back to sit more comfortably in his chair. Everything looked and smelled wonderful. He broke another piece of bread to have with his serving of turkey, having settled on doing nothing but enjoying this evening for what it was and definitely not on thinking about his and Allison's former relationship.

"Do you like Eggs Benedict?" Lawrence asked Allison at one point.

"Dad, no," Leonard said. "No jokes."

"I like your dad's jokes," Allison said. She crossed her legs and turned slightly in Lawrence's direction. "I've never had them."

"Ah, well then you have to try them while you're here. They serve them on a hubcap."

Allison laughed. "What, a hubcap?"

That was nice, hearing her laugh. He didn't know the last time he'd heard that before tonight. He let his eyes linger on her. She was wearing the graduation outfit he'd bought her. That gave him a little twinge. The first time she'd worn it was the day she'd told him yes. Yes, she wanted a relationship with him. She said she didn't even know what that meant, he recalled. How can you not know what that means?

Lawrence delivered the punchline with aplomb. "Oh, yes, everyone knows, there's no plate like chrome for the hollandaise."

She let out a groaning laugh and cuffed his arm with the back of her hand. "That was just as bad as Leonard thought it would be," she teased, shooting Leonard a smirk.

He found himself laughing in return. Was there really something so special about a holiday that it could transform things this way? He sat back and mentally stepped outside the scene around him. It was a simple moment; there was nothing really that remarkable about it. It was special because they were together.

Leonard knew he was a stubborn person. But in that instant he decided. It was only fitting in the spirit of the holiday, after all. If she ever came to apologize to him for what she had done, he would take her back. He'd take her back with open arms.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Rafael - Seam  
_Leonard is drawn to Allison even as he despises her for cheating on him_

Dizzy - Jimmy Eat World  
_Leonard wishes something would break so that they could talk about their past relationship_

Rest In Pieces - Saliva  
_Leonard is weary of remembering their breakup and wishes it would all just go away_

Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys  
_Even though Allison was the one in the wrong Leonard finds himself wanting to bridge the gap between them_

All Fall Down - OneRepublic  
_They both know they have failed in the aftermath of their breakup, and the small part of each of them that knows there is still something there draws them together in a different way_

Needing/Getting - Ok Go  
_Leonard wishes something would change to make their coming together possible_


	16. Chapter 16

Lawrence was sitting at the table when Leonard returned from work. "Hey, Dad," Leonard said.

Lawrence paused in eating his meal. "Hello, Len."

Leonard approached the table and sat down across from his father. He'd left his school bag on the chair beside him and he sighed before pulling out a large text.

"Sunday night and you still have homework?" Lawrence asked.

"Dad." Leonard flipped the book open and pulled out his datapad so he could start taking notes. "I'm in college now, you don't need to nag me."

Lawrence shook his head. "I'm not going to."

Leonard let out a light scoff. "You want to."

"Leonard," his father said. "Honestly, I've noticed a drop-off in the effort you're putting into things, but I wasn't planning to say anything right now."

He looked at his father with a raised eyebrow, setting the datapad down. "A drop-off?"

"Yes," Lawrence said. "I'm sorry to tell you this, Leonard, but you've been pretty distractible in the last several months. I remember the way you had to scramble to bring up your calculus grade last semester."

Leonard rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know." He was the one who had gone through it, after all.

"I just want to make sure you're focusing on what you need to focus on," Lawrence said.

"Of course I am," Leonard replied. "What do you think I focus on?"

"Can I be honest?"

Leonard frowned slightly. "Of course, Dad, why wouldn't you be?"

Lawrence sighed. "I know you won't want to hear it." He pushed his plate away slightly. "Leonard, you need to move on from Allison. I know it's difficult with her living here, but lingering on it isn't going to change what happened."

"Dad," he said, scoffing. "What the hell makes you think I haven't?"

Lawrence folded his hands in front of him. "It's the way you act when she's around you."

He glanced at the stairs; he hoped Allison couldn't overhear this. But she was probably at work, anyway. "I don't treat her any differently than I treat anybody."

"All right, Leonard, I'm just asking you to give it some thought. You can't let it distract you from your schooling."

"I _don't_, Dad." He picked the datapad back up. "Like, what I'm about to do is just the end of my homework, not the whole assignment. You don't have to worry about it."

"All right, Len." Lawrence picked up his plate and stood. "Just keep in mind what I've said."

"Sure. Whatever." Leonard began to work, making it a point to appear to be hard at work until his father went elsewhere.

* * *

Everything had seemed normal that day, a couple of weeks later. He'd come home from class, slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed for the front door. As he started to head inside, he noticed there was a piece of mail in the mailbox, and he picked it up to bring inside. It was usually a big deal when something actually arrived on a piece of paper—ordinary correspondence took place online. So he found his heart seized a bit when he realized what he was looking at. A large envelope, a thick one, with the UNSC Marines logo and Allison's name on it.

He went over to the coffee table and set it down slowly, checking the front of it over again as though the logo would change upon further inspection. He shouldn't jump to conclusions. Instead of contemplating it any further he went over to the dinette table and started pulling out his books so he could study. Except that wasn't strictly true. He settled in to get started, but as he opened his book and started reading, he quickly found he wasn't paying any attention to the words his eyes were passing over. He reprimanded himself mentally, and started again. This time it wasn't long before he was simply staring blankly, unseeing, at the text.

He blinked and let his eyes wander over to the coffee the time of the conversation with his father he'd thought Lawrence's points invalid, but with this…with this he started to see what Lawrence had been talking about. Because he hadn't moved on. He hadn't stopped missing her, and now seeing this packet that arrived in the mail, the reality had come crashing down that she was likely to leave. He hated the uncertain feeling of knowing it could happen at any time, that they might go on their separate ways and never see each other again. Leonard set down the textbook with a sigh, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

For months Leonard had been trying to play this game in his mind, a game where he pretended Allison was just a boarder, a stranger who just happened to live there. It was made easier during those periods of time when she had a job and paid her own rent. Their interactions had returned to the state they had been in before all this had happened—somewhere between flirtingly combative and openly hostile, a sort of wanton antagonism.

Leonard tried never to let himself think about what had happened, but sometimes late at night when he would pass her bedroom, shuffling down the hall in the dark, the memories came flooding back. He felt weak when that happened, when he knew she was sleeping peacefully behind that door, and part of him wanted to wrench it open, ask her how she could have done that to him—to _them_. How in the world was keeping a secret bank account in any way equivalent to sleeping with some other guy? But he could never have done it. Sometimes, he thought, questions were too painful to ask, the answers better kept unknown.

Yet over time…over time he couldn't help letting his disdain for her weaken. It had started a couple of months ago, when they'd gone out for that holiday dinner. She'd been relaxed and charming and fully herself that night. Ever since then she'd been a little softer toward him, and he hadn't been able to help responding to her in the same way. It wasn't something he meant to allow to happen, and he did his best to ignore it. He even tried dating other girls, but he always found some reason not to go back for a second date. Yet he knew he was just making excuses. The only thing wrong with them was that they weren't _her_.

What she had done was not unforgivable, but her refusal to speak to him about it was. It was nearly a year to the day since the incident in that classroom, and he was acutely aware that they had now spent more time in that year apart than they had together. He closed his eyes. He wished she would just knock on his door and look into his eyes and apologize for hurting him. He missed her more and more; missed her beautiful laugh, missed the sweet scent that she carried into the room with her after a shower, missed the taste of her lips and the feel of the curve in her hip…

Just then Allison came bursting through the front door—never subtle, even when it came to something as simple as arriving home from work.

Leonard jumped at the interruption of his reverie. He was instantly irritated. She was about the last person he wanted to see when his thoughts had been lingering on her. "Can you try to avoid breaking down the fucking door whenever you come home?"

She walked up to the table with an exasperated sigh. "Nice to see you, too." She plopped a wad of cash down on his book. "Here's rent for April."

"Thanks." Leonard picked it up and put it in his pocket. "Glad that you could be on time this month."

"Yeah, well, I managed to stay employed this time."

"What a fucking miracle." He glanced up, glad that his thoughts hadn't been any further developed when she pranced in, and gestured to the coffee table. He tried to sound indifferent. "You got something in the mail."

He watched her pick it up and turn it over. It amazed him how he could feel so much rancor now that she had entered the room, when he had been thinking of her with such endearment just a few moments ago. His eyes meandered down her body, and he tore them away and looked at his book. The thought flashed through his mind that he didn't care about the apology anymore—he just wanted to hold her again. He'd been so stubborn, wasting all this time without her.

His eyes flickered back in her direction. She had pulled the packet of papers out of the envelope and was flipping through them. She sighed and flopped down onto the couch, the papers fluttering to land on the coffee table.

"Thinking about joining up?" he said, trying to sound casual.

She let out a nervous laugh. "Well, not really _thinking_ about it."

"Oh. Good." His expression softened, but he tried not to show just how relieved he was. "I mean, you don't want to do that, really, right?"

She glanced at him, her head cocking with a small half-shrug. "The discipline would be good for me."

"Oh, come on, Allison! Getting up at the crack of dawn and having to shine your shoes and stuff?" He shook his head and stood, moving toward her. Forget about looking apathetic, he didn't want her to go, damn it. She watched him warily. "You can apply for college, get some discipline that way. Besides…I wouldn't want you to go away." He swallowed nervously and sat down beside her. That was the first he had indicated to her that he still missed her. He couldn't bear to look at her.

"You wouldn't?" she asked in a small tone. Had he hidden his heartache so well?

"No, Allison. I wouldn't." His eyes darted to meet hers for an instant before he bent his head and grabbed the papers from the coffee table. He tried to read the top sheet, but his hands were shaking. Allison scooted closer to him, reached out, and pulled the papers gently from his hand.

She was so close he could smell that gardenia scent she used. So close… For a moment he felt himself being drawn to kiss her, an inevitable feeling, like gravity. She was so very close…

His eyes met hers and suddenly he came to himself. It had been a mistake to let his guard down. He frowned and sat straight up again to renew the distance between them. She'd betrayed him. What did he care if she joined the marines? Let her make that mistake, he didn't care. There was a long silence, both of them motionless.

"Leonard?" For a second she seemed as spellbound as he had been, but the change in his posture brought her up short. She hesitated audibly. "Do you…miss me?"

He snorted. "No, why would I? You fucking cheated on me." He shook his head, his lips pressed to a thin line. He tried to look her in the eye but dropped his gaze again, unable.

"Don't lie to me." She pushed her hair back off of her forehead and held her hand there, apparently torn.

He scoffed weakly, sneaking a look since she was now gazing absently out into the room. He hadn't expected the look on her face. He'd expected her to look at him with that look of utter superiority she got when she knew she could best him in an argument, that knowing smirk. But she looked so vulnerable. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Was this going to be that simple? Would she turn to him, apologize for what she had done?

Her voice quavered slightly when she spoke again. "I miss you too."

That was too much. What did that matter when she had never apologized? She should have groveled at his feet for what she had done. But he knew it showed all over his face, how badly he wanted to forget about that and simply take her back into his arms. He turned his head to hide his expression, then suddenly stood, head ducked. Abandoning his school books, he walked to the patio door and went outside. It was a bit chilly out, and he wasn't wearing a jacket, but he slid the door firmly shut behind him and starting cursing to himself. He lit up a cigarette that his shaking fingers had pulled from his pocket.

It was only a few moments before the door slid open again behind him. He kept his back turned. "Leave me alone, will you?" He crossed his arms, swearing irritably.

"In a minute." She walked around in front of him and held out a hand, her expression resolute. "I just need to give you this back."

The necklace was in her hand.

He shook his head slowly, reaching up to push her hand back down. "Allison, seriously. That's _yours_. Don't shove it in my face again."

"That's not what I'm doing." She pulled her hand away from his. "I didn't deserve it. You should take it back. I never appreciated it."

He took a drag from his cigarette. He could see the silver and the jewel shining in her hand.

"Leonard…I know I screwed things up really bad. I betrayed you, and I'm sorry." She thrust the hand with the necklace out again. "I didn't deserve _anything_ you did for me. So I can't keep this."

He didn't reach out for it. He tried to speak, but his voice was gruff and the words left his throat only with great effort. "You're sorry…?"

Allison dropped her hand. Her voice was filled with sorrow. "For my part. Yes, I'm sorry, more than you could know." There was a pause and she stepped back, raising her face to look at the sky. "The papers I got in the mail were my enlistment papers. I'm going to be leaving."

No, no, it couldn't be. Leonard suddenly felt like the world was collapsing in on him. His head dropped and he flicked the cigarette away, not knowing if it was out of irritation or concern.

"It's too late for us, Leonard," she muttered. "And I'm not worth it. I'm really not."

"Yes, you are." The protest caught in his throat and he swallowed hard.

"It's true." She turned to face him. "I mean… When we were together we didn't talk, Leonard. We fought about trivial junk all the time, but we didn't really deal with stuff. You know?"

Leonard grimaced slightly. He did know, all too well.

"We never really trusted each other. If there was some way for us to go back and deal with that, I would be willing, but we just don't have enough time. I think you should let me go and forget about me. You know? Move on with your life."

Leonard shook his head. "You don't think I'd wait for you?"

Allison sounded wistful. "I know you would. You are so…" She rubbed her hands together against the chill, seemingly unable to finish the sentiment. "Don't do this to yourself. Okay? I have to spend some time out there, figuring out my life. You should do the same thing." Then she brushed past him and walked back through the patio door.

Leonard stood, staring blankly at the sky, for a long time. He found he couldn't even think; he couldn't process what had happened. A thousand memories of her surfaced like ripples in a pond, undulating and changing from one to another.

Suddenly he realized he felt chilled to the bone, and opened the door to follow where she had gone. He approached the table slowly. The necklace was lying on top of his textbook. He picked up the gem, letting the chain hang off of his fingers, and looked at it shining under the light overhead. How had it all turned upside down? He had waited so long for that apology. Everything should be fine now; everything should go back to normal.

But that wasn't true, he reminded himself. He had started the whole cycle by lying to her. Not just about the bank account. He had told her lies all the time, little lies that grew and enveloped them. She was not the only one that had things to make right. He blew out a breath and carefully tucked the necklace down in his pocket. With that he squared his shoulders resolutely and headed up the stairs.

There was a long wait after Leonard knocked on her bedroom door, but he could hear her shuffling around there. He placed his palm on the door, wishing he could somehow transfer everything he wanted to say right to her in an instant. But after the momentary shifting sound he had heard there was nothing but silence.

He knocked again after the interminable pause. His heart thudded in his chest. This time the floor creaked as she walked to the door and slowly pulled it open. She looked as though she had been crying, but she wore a carefully stoic expression.

He tried to keep his tone neutral. "Allison…can we talk for a few minutes?"

"If you want. But I'm not going to change my mind." She spoke confidently, looking into his eyes, but her lips trembled slightly.

"Allison…" Her lovely, sad eyes drove all the words he had planned to say out of his mind, and he had to concentrate as he spoke to make sure he sounded coherent. "I've spent a lot of time thinking about what went wrong. And I don't think our problem was trust as much as it was honesty. I should have been honest with you about things. If I had it to do over again I would tell you everything."

She fiddled with her hair, turning her gaze to the side. "We could spend a long time talking about what went wrong, but that won't make it all go away."

"No, it won't. But I think we could learn from it."

Allison let go of her hair and looked at him again. "It's just not that simple, Leonard."

"Who said that's simple? I didn't say that."

Allison just looked at him.

"Maybe we don't have much time left. You're right about that. But this… Allison, I'm willing to try. Are you?"

There it was again, that vulnerability in her gaze. "Why?" she asked.

This was hard for him. He bit his lip. "Because I was wrong, too. I shouldn't have lied to you about the money. I'm sorry."

She nodded. She seemed to be fighting back a wave of emotion and she covered her eyes with a hand and rubbed at them briefly. She didn't see when he stepped forward to wrap her in his arms.

His heart was beating so quickly. She stood stiffly for a moment before she relaxed against him. The sensations—the heat of her body, her arms reaching down to encircle his waist, the moist feeling of her cheek pressing against his neck—all of that seemed like the first feelings he had felt in months. He buried his face in her hair, smelled her scent, stroked his fingers languidly through the locks. For so long he had been denying to himself how much he wanted to feel her again. He wished he could just absorb her into himself, like liquid passing into a sponge.

Now her mouth was roaming down his ear, his cheek, his jaw line. He hadn't intended this, he'd wanted to give it more time, but he brought his lips to hers. There was desperation in her kiss. He felt intoxicated, heady with her fragrance. He could take her at any moment.

But it wouldn't be right. They still had to spend the time to sort through things. He relaxed his grip and pulled his face away from hers. "We can't," he muttered reluctantly.

"You idiot," she muttered, burying her face in his neck again. "Just hold me."

So he did.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

I Never Told You - Colbie Caillat  
_Allison makes things right on her end of things by apologizing to Leonard_

I'd Come For You - Nickelback  
_Leonard shows himself willing to put things right when Allison apologizes_

The Scientist - Coldplay  
_Leonard comes to Allison to apologize and ask if they can start over_

My Life Would Suck Without You in My Place - Kelly Clarkson vs. Coldplay (Mashup by DJ Earworm)  
_Leonard and Allison come back together and they realize how much they need one another_

With Me - Sum 41  
_Now that they've come back together Leonard vows to do things right this time_


	17. Chapter 17

"All right, Leonard." The man who sat across the desk from him pulled up some information on a datapad and looked it over. "I see you still haven't chosen a major."

"No," Leonard replied. "Honestly, I'm still considering whether I'm going to stay. I might be enlisting."

"Oh?" His advisor looked at him over the datapad before returning his attention to it. "I think it's best to schedule yourself for classes for next semester, just in case."

"Yeah, me too." He was still deciding which way he wanted to go with things. Heading to the recruitment office had been something of an impulse decision and he still didn't know quite why he'd done it.

"We'll continue placing you in general education courses, but choosing a major soon will make it easier on you your third and fourth years." The advisor typed on the pad. "Are you still planning to take summer courses to accelerate your graduation date?"

"As long as I stay."

When he left he remained wrapped up in thoughts about his future. Allison seemed so assured that enlisting had been the right choice, that she would be fulfilled by the role she would play in the armed forces. And with a war on against the Insurrection it seemed that serving would be an important duty to carry out.

He hadn't expected to run into his father when he arrived at home. "Hey, Dad," he said, approaching the kitchen. It might be a bit late for a cup of coffee but he needed something to sip as he ruminated over his options. He set up the machine as his father turned off his program and joined him there.

"Fix me a cup, too," Lawrence said.

"Sure." Leonard added more grounds to the basket and poured the water. "You're home early."

"Maybe. I don't spend as many evenings in the office these days." Lawrence leaned back against the counter. "Seems to me like you're home late."

"I guess. I had some stuff to take care of today." Stuff that included driving around aimlessly, thinking about what it would mean to be in the Marines, like Allison.

"Still looking for a better-paying job?" Lawrence asked.

Leonard shrugged. "Maybe." Since he'd graduated high school Lawrence had been charging him rent, an equal amount to what Allison was being charged. It wasn't too bad. They'd be paying twice as much if they got a place of their own. Still, he chafed a bit at still being under his father's roof.

"Have you ever considered asking Will for a raise?" Lawrence asked. "You've been there for quite some time."

"And I've already gotten a few raises during that time," Leonard said. "I don't want to take advantage of his generosity."

"I suppose not." The coffee machine gurgled and Lawrence reached into the cabinet to get out some mugs. "I can probably find something for you to do at the office if you're interested in that. You probably won't make any more than you're making now, but it'd be somewhere you can advance."

"No, Dad." He wasn't interested in having his father pull strings for him again and he definitely wasn't interested in architecture. "If I find something I'll let you know."

"Of course," Lawrence replied. "I _am_ interested, you know."

Leonard looked at him. "Yeah. I know." That didn't mean he was going to share everything going on in his life. Even Allison didn't get that privilege.

* * *

It was early afternoon when Allison was let go from work. It was a beautiful spring day, a bit warm, but pleasant. She was unusually attuned to the greenness of her surroundings as she passed the neighboring houses with their tidy lawns and gardens. It was still weird to think she lived here, even after all this time. She approached the house, taking off her shoes halfway across the lawn, and felt the grass between her toes as she carried them the rest of the way to the porch. With a sigh she sat down on the rocker swing. The sunshine beating down from overhead would prevent her from lingering here too long, but for now it was okay.

It wasn't long before she saw Leonard's car maneuvering around the block. He parked in front and she watched him get out and start walking toward her. She knew he wouldn't be expecting her home this early. She smiled. "Hey," she called as he approached.

"Mm. Hey." He had a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. His expression was blank, as though he were trying to cover up some discomfort of some kind. She scooted over on the rocker swing and motioned for him to sit beside her. He sat down, raising a hand to rub at his forehead.

She looked at him, arching an eyebrow, confused at his behavior. "What's with you?"

"Nothing." He sat back and folded the stack of papers over in half, then in half again, and shoved them in his back pocket.

"It's not nothing," she said. "What are those papers?"

"It's a bunch of bullshit," he said. "I'll show you later."

"Or you could show me now and quit wasting time." She reached around and snatched the papers out of his pocket where they were sticking out.

"Hey," he said in irritation, trying to grab them as she unfolded them.

"Nuh-uh," she said, standing, shooting him a triumphant smirk and kicking him in the ankle.

"Fuck you," he said, kicking her back.

She might have responded again, but her attention was now diverted by the papers she was holding in her hand. "Retinitis pigmentosa," she read aloud, taking her seat again, looking the papers over as she spoke. "You didn't tell me you've been having trouble with your eyes."

"I wasn't. Well…not much." He crossed his arms, letting out a soft snort. "They found that and astigmatism. Like I said, it's a bunch of bullshit."

"Calling it bullshit isn't going to make it go away." She set the papers in her lap when she was done looking them over. "Good thing you thought to get it checked out."

"Not my idea," he grumbled.

"Oh?" She shifted closer to him. "Whose idea was it?"

He frowned at her. "I was going to enlist. I failed the physical because of my vision."

"What?" She shoved his arm. "You were going to _enlist_? You're going to college, what the hell were you thinking?"

"It doesn't fucking matter now," he said.

"You're such a fucking idiot," she said. "You know, I think you're damn lucky your eyes are messed up. That would have been the biggest mistake of your life."

"Yeah, whatever. I just figured it was so important to you, why shouldn't I do the same thing? I thought I could…" He trailed off and lifted a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Anyway, it doesn't matter."

"You don't even know what you were thinking," she filled in. "Fucking _idiot._"

"Yeah, I'm such a fucking idiot," he grumbled. "Quit harping on me, woman."

She shook her head, returning her attention to the stack of papers. "They have to do retinal surgery?" she asked.

"It's that or go blind," he said, sullen. "They've already got me scheduled. Luckily it's before you leave."

"Good," she said. She pressed up next to him, putting an arm around his waist and giving it a squeeze. "I'll be there, don't worry."

"You'd better be," he said. "I might even need glasses after it's all over. They don't know until they see the results of the surgery."

"At least you won't be going blind." According to the papers in her lap the disease was progressive; without surgery he'd end up with tunnel vision and night blindness before eventually losing his vision altogether.

"Yeah," he said.

She could see the disappointment on his face. She set the papers on the ground so she could cup his chin with her hand and turn his head to look at her. "Come on," she said. "Let's go out and we can look through your course catalog. Maybe you'll get closer to picking out a major."

"Not right now," he said, petulant. "Let's just go watch something."

"It's all right, Leonard," she said. She was holding his gaze. She knew he needed sympathy, so she kept her expression as open as she could. "It worked out for the best, and you know it."

He grunted, tugging his face away from her hand. "Maybe later."

"Come on," she said. "I'll pay for lunch." She stood and gave him a small tug on his hand.

He eyed her. "Seriously?"

"I'm not _that_ cheap, Leonard. As long as you don't order the steak."

"You wouldn't take me to a place like that anyway," he teased, standing. "Cheapskate."

She rubbed his waist. "Well…just this once. _If_ you bring that course catalog."

He shook his head. "You would."

"It's up to you," she said in a sing-song.

He rolled his eyes. "All right, you win."

Allison bent to put her shoes back on. "Why were you trying to put off telling me?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I haven't had a chance to process it yet," he said.

She stood again and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'll _help_ you process it," she said.

"You make it sound so simple."

She got into the car before continuing. "When is your surgery, anyway?"

"In June," he said, starting the engine. "There's a month of recovery time where I'm not going to be able to read or go out in bright sunlight or do any kind of exercise. After that I'll be able to do more stuff."

"That's not bad," she said.

He sighed. "But this means I can't take any summer classes." Leonard hoped to graduate early—once he picked out a major, that was.

She looked at him, amused. "You were just going to enlist, what do you care about not being able to take summer classes?" she teased him. "I think it's great. If they had found this later who knows when you'd be having this surgery? It could have been years before you'd noticed your symptoms enough to get it checked out."

"So you're saying you're glad I tried to enlist," he said, giving her hand a nudge.

"_Only_ because it didn't work out," she said. "Otherwise I would have been mad as all hell at you."

"You'd really have been that pissed off, huh."

"Yeah, I would. It's not for you, Leonard. You have a really bright future."

"What, and you don't?"

She ignored his comment, sighing. "You really would have disappointed your dad, too."

"He's okay with whatever I do," Leonard said.

She shook her head. "I've heard him lecture you, so don't even tell me that."

He blew a breath out of his nose. In actuality he knew that was true. Why else would he have avoided telling his father anything? "Anyway, it doesn't matter now."

"Sure it does. I want you to tell me you won't do anything stupid like that again. No trying to do normal things before the eye doctor says you can, you understand me?"

"I won't." He glanced over at her.

She reached for his hand to give it a squeeze. "Good, 'cause I'm not afraid to kick your ass."

It wasn't until after they'd eaten that Allison brought the course catalog up again. "Come on, let's take a look at that book," she said once the server had cleared their plates.

"I don't know why you're so interested," he mumbled.

She tilted her head slightly. "Why wouldn't I be, Leonard?"

He grunted. "You think I'm a nerd."

"Asshole," she said. "You're _my_ nerd."

He let out a scoff. Instead of responding, Allison pulled the book over to her and flipped it open to the science majors section.

"Ha," she said, laughing a little when she saw where the book had opened to. "Physicist. You can be with your true love, Leonard, what do you think of that?"

"No," he grumbled. He pulled the book over to him and perused the next several pages, then flipped to the technology majors, scanning the headings.

Allison leaned in his direction, reading the pages from beside him. He was flipping through more and more rapidly, apparently becoming even less interested in looking this over than he had been before. "Stop," she said.

He frowned over at her. "Look, Allison—"

"No," she said. "You look. You're pouting. It's stupid. You don't want to enlist, Leonard, and you know it. So quit acting like this has ruined your life."

"I just need some time to get over it," he grumbled. "Can't you handle that?"

"There," she said, pointing at the page. "Look at that."

He sighed exaggeratedly. "If you leave me alone about it after that."

"Just _look_ at it," she said. "Artificial intelligence engineering. What do you think of that?"

He turned his gaze to the page. She suppressed a smile. She remembered a couple of occasions when he'd expressed interest in artificial intelligences—a passing thing, really, and something he probably thought she hadn't been paying any attention to, but she remembered it all the same. And he had dabbled in computer programming in the past. As soon as she'd seen the heading she knew it would capture his interest and by the way he was studying the course requirements now, she was assured that she was right. "I thought you weren't in the mood to look," she said once he looked up again.

He rolled his eyes. "It sounds interesting, Allison. What did you expect me to do?"

"Exactly what you did," she said, laughing. "Admit it, you like the sound of it."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Hm," she said, pleased despite his attempt to appear disinterested. "I knew you'd find something right for you."

"You mean you knew _you'd _find it," he muttered, annoyed that she'd been right.

She laughed. "Maybe. I don't think it matters _who_ found it."

"I'll talk to my advisor soon," he said. "And I'll make sure and give you credit."

* * *

Leonard's surgery was two months later. The surgeon's report after it was over was good. Afterwards, Lawrence and Allison were led to the recovery room, where Leonard was wheeled in on a gurney. He made little noises now and then, but he didn't seem to be quite awake those times when he opened his eyes. The lights were dimmed, though, so it was a little hard to tell. At some point, though, he tried to raise his head, and Allison stepped up beside the bed. "Hey," she said. "You awake?"

He grunted.

"How're you feeling?" she asked.

He groaned a little and looked at her. "Hey," he muttered.

"You feeling okay?" she asked, setting her hand on his arm.

"Heeey," he said. "You're Allison."

A smile spread on her face. He was still under the influence of the anesthesia. "Yup. Glad you remember me."

"I remember you. Yeahhh." He laid his head against the pillow again. His drawl was thicker than usual. "I remember it. Getting together with you. Best day of my life."

-She chuckled and brushed her hand over his hairline. She didn't want to get her hand too close to his eyes. They appeared puffy and the skin around them was reddened. "Careful, you're drunk," she teased him. "You're liable to say anything right now."

He closed his eyes. "Where am I?"

"You just had surgery, Leonard," she said. "On your eyes, remember?"

"Uh-unh," he grunted. "But you're here for me?"

"Yes, of course I'm here." She couldn't help laughing at him a bit. She'd have to tease him about all this when he woke up for real. "You think I'd leave you alone?"

"Mmh," he grunted. "Does that mean you love me?"

This time she did laugh, a full laugh, and Lawrence joined in. Those weren't words she said often. She knew he wished she would say it more. "Yes," she said. "It does."

"I love you, too," he said. "We should get married."

That was new. He'd never expressed that thought to her before. She raised an eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

"Be_cause_." Leonard opened his eyes and looked at her. "Hey, you're really hot, did I ever tell you that?"

She shook her head. Apparently his bringing up marriage hadn't meant anything. He'd dropped the topic fast enough. "You've mentioned it."

There was a pause before he spoke again. "I'm sleepy."

"That's okay, Leonard, go back to sleep." She brushed her hand over his hair before backing off. He seemed grateful to close his eyes and he fell back to sleep right away. She stood beside him for a minute longer, a slight smile on her lips.

"It's like a truth serum, isn't it?" Lawrence said. "You could have asked him anything and he would have answered."

"I'm not sure his answers would have made sense," Allison replied. "It would have been fun to drag that out a little more though." She released Leonard's arm and returned to her chair, taking a sip of the water she had sitting nearby.

Lawrence chuckled. "We've missed our chance at that now."

Allison looked at him; she'd be leaving in a month, this was as good a time to say this as any. "Hey. Thanks, you know, for everything you've done for me. I know it couldn't have been easy."

"You've grown a lot, Allison," Lawrence said. "It was an honor to help you get to this point. I'm proud of you."

She rubbed her arm with her opposite hand. She hadn't expected him to say something like that. "Well…thanks."

"You're welcome," he said. "You know I'll support you in any way I can going forward, as well."

"Yes," she said. "I know." She picked a bit at her pant leg, as though trying to remove a piece of lint. "I don't really understand why you let me move in, though."

Lawrence's gaze moved to his son where he lay. "I did what I felt was right." He took in a breath and let it out. "It's hard to explain, Allison. I just remembered how things played out for my wife and I, and I didn't want you to go through that kind of hardship."

"Your wife?" Allison asked.

"Yes…" He shook his head. "Maybe I better start at the beginning."

"I guess so." She'd never seen Lawrence like this. His gaze was soft, as though he was looking back through time. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. Yet she wanted to know what he had to say.

"I met Neira when I was sixteen," he said. "My parents didn't like her. They didn't like the fact that I was getting close to her and they tried to forbid our friendship. The more they tried to separate us, though, the closer she and I drew together. By the time I was eighteen I was willing to move out of the house in order to be with her."

"I wasn't interested in Leonard when he invited me to stay with you guys," she said. Not in that way.

"I knew he was interested in you," Lawrence said. "I also knew you would shut him down if you didn't feel the same way. I was more concerned about your safety."

"Okay?" She frowned. "What's this have to do with you and your wife?"

"My parents weren't supportive of my decision to move in with Neira," he continued. "When we got our own place I was eighteen and she was seventeen. We worked minimum wage jobs and tried to make ends meet. Eventually I got into a fight with my mother about our lifestyle; we had a screaming match and she cut off contact. I haven't spoken to my parents since I was nineteen years old."

This was beyond Allison's comprehension. She didn't believe Lawrence was capable of getting into that kind of argument with anyone, much less his own mother. But she shook her head; so far this story didn't seem to have much to do with her situation. "I don't understand what you're getting at."

"Adolescence is a tough age," he replied. "It helps if you have someone older and wiser to guide you. You'll still make mistakes, but having support makes a big difference. I didn't have that."

"I probably would have been okay," she said. Sure, he'd helped her, but he wasn't wholly responsible for the way things had turned out. "I always thought I might enlist."

"That's true; I have no way of knowing how things might have happened otherwise. But at the time I felt I needed to do _something_."

She sighed and sat back in her chair. "Well, what happened?"

He looked somewhere off into space, above the doorway. "What we didn't know about Neira's… tempestuousness, was that she was bipolar. She had Leonard when she was nineteen. Then she had an episode…" He trailed off for a moment, then let his gaze return to Allison's face. "I don't want to get into details, but they diagnosed it as postpartum psychosis."

"That doesn't sound good," Allison said, her eyes wide. No, none of this reflected her own background, but though his motivations were wrong, it was clearly something that had profoundly impacted his life.

"No, it wasn't. Leonard's life was in danger, from his own mother. I lost my job because I had to stay with the two of them. Her mother helped, but she worked too, and even with us taking turns to be with her I missed too much time." He sighed. "After I lost that job, I decided I needed to get a degree so I could better provide for the two of them—Neira couldn't work. I worked hard to make things better—but she only took that to mean I didn't want to be at home with the two of them. And she wouldn't submit to treatment for her illness. After a while…things just broke. And she left. When Leonard was eight."

Allison looked at him keenly. By the way he had recounted it, she had a feeling he wasn't quite over it. He looked sad, very sad. "I'm sorry I dragged that out of you," she said after a long silence.

"No, no," he said. "I'm glad you asked. I always hoped you understood what I did for your benefit."

"I did. But I understand it better now." Impulsively, she stood and stepped over to give him a hug.

He seemed surprised, but returned it with a gentle squeeze. "I'm glad you do."

She returned to her chair and shifted so she was facing Leonard, and watched him sleep. She had never had any idea about his background. She thought back now, thought back about all the things he'd done since they had met, the way he acted, the way Lawrence tried to guide the both of them through as they grew and changed during their school years. There were things that if he'd known them she wasn't sure Lawrence would have been so glad to have her in his home, but she certainly wasn't going to bring those things up. She was lost in her reverie when Lawrence got up, and she glanced over at him as he began to exit the room.

She diverted her attention again and looked at Leonard. She'd never forget the fact that now she'd seen Leonard's father cry.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Mint Royale Singing In The Rain Remix - Mint Royale  
_Falling in love with Neira is a wild ride but Lawrence wouldn't have it any other way._

Kill, Fuck, Marry - Nikki Williams  
_Despite Neira's severe bipolar disorder, Lawrence is loyal to her and knows how to deal with her mania._

Carnival of Rust - Poets of the Fall  
_Neira goes from one extreme to another, but they always reconcile when things go wrong._

Rope Swing - Thingy  
_In some ways being in this relationship is dangerous to both of them, and their incompatibility is complicated things even more when they have a child._

Lift - Poets of the Fall  
_They argue and she pushes him sometimes, but Lawrence's love for Neira is stronger than their problems._

Two Is Enough - Seam  
_The first rumblings that something's seriously wrong between them aren't really a surprise, but Lawrence still wants to try to work things out._

Everything To Me - Bowling For Soup  
_Lawrence was spending so much time trying to put things right financially that he destroyed their relationship._

I Am So Mad At You - Andrew Jackson Jihad  
_After a while Lawrence is sick of being the one who always tries to fix things. He's not perfect and he's tired of being the one who always has to make a sacrifice._

Already Over - Red  
_Neira's addictions have kept her in a state where she runs away and comes back in turns. She was never ready for the responsibility of being a mother and that pressure eventually leads to her deciding to go._

Pieces - Sum 41  
_In the end Lawrence is left with the relief that he doesn't have to keep trying so hard to keep things together. He's left as a single parent and between that and his career he's got plenty on his plate._


	18. Chapter 18

"You know you'll have more time for this later, right?"

Allison sighed and rolled her eyes, stuffing another garment into her duffel. "This is my first time going away," she said. "Don't you want me to be ready?"

"Yeah, obviously," Leonard said. "It's just that we already missed lunch and I still want to do this before it goes and gets dark."

"'This'," she imitated. "You still haven't told me what 'this' is."

"Wouldn't be much of a surprise, would it?" he said. "Come onnn, you can finish this when we get back."

"Don't whine," she said. But she dropped the strap on her bag. "Fine, let's go."

"I knew you couldn't resist in the end," he teased.

She prodded him in the side before moving over to the closet, and slipped on her shoes. "Going to tell me where we're going now?"

"Nope," he said, grinning and beckoning her with a hand. She sighed, smiling faintly, and took it. He led her to the stairs and led the way down, heading to the kitchen to gather the picnic basket he'd prepared earlier in the day.

She shot him an amused glance. "I didn't know you were planning something so romantic," she said.

"What's romantic? It's just some food." He lowered the basket to his side and gestured toward the door.

She arched an eyebrow at him. "We're not just headed to the yard, are we?"

He snorted. "_No._ We're going to the state park, okay? That spot we found that one time?"

"Ah," she said. "I knew I could get you to tell me."

"Not like you weren't going to find out in half an hour anyway," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"So?" she asked, laughing. "Come on. Just because your secret's out doesn't mean we can't follow through."

He huffed at her, causing her to give him a little tap on the arm with a closed fist and a grin.

The spot where they were headed was familiar enough by now. They had returned here a time or two before. It was located down an abandoned, overgrown trail that deviated about 50 feet from the main path. There was a rise with a clearing in the trees, and the view beyond was of the setting sun. The place was gorgeous, but hidden.

When they emerged from the woods Leonard laid the basket down on the ground and began to set up, but Allison stepped forward and gazed out into the field below the hill. "You know, I've been thinking about this. How I'm leaving. How we're going to spend so much time apart."

"Yeah. Me too." He methodically removed items from the basket, arranging them in the middle of the sheet he had laid out. "Can't do anything about it now, though. It's not like there are any take-backs when you're dealing with the Marine Corps."

"No," she said. She turned toward him. "That's not what I'm talking about."

He paused, still crouched down, holding a plate in his hand. "What do you mean?"

"Listen…" She looked off to one side, fidgeting. "Listen, I think we should break it off, you know?"

He frowned, setting the plate down, and rose to his feet. "What?"

She glanced over at him, her head still angled away. "You heard me. This isn't going to work like this."

"Not going to work like what?" He stepped over to her and reached for her hand.

She pulled it away and faced him. "Long distance like this. With both of us having separate goals, and…and focusing on keeping up with each other's lives and stuff. We're both going to be so busy. Why throw in something like that?"

He frowned, his brows drawing together. "Allison, if you're worried about making me wait on you—"

"_No_," she interrupted, "that's not it. You think everything's about you. Let me do this."

"You mean you're giving me a choice?" he said.

She reached out a hand and pushed against his shoulder. "That's not what I mean."

"That's what you _said_ though."

She sighed. "Leonard, please."

"Please nothing. If you're not sure about this, then don't do it. And you don't sound sure so don't say you are."

"Quit being an asshole," she grumbled. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because…I love you," he said. "I do. It's not like the time before. You know? I was completely infatuated with you, I can't deny that for a minute, but this is different."

"How is it different?" she demanded. "And why does it matter? We need to be practical about this."

"We've been through the fire together," he said. "Learned a lot about each other. Learned a lot about how to make this work, and what we need to give to one another. I care a lot about that. I know you do too. You would have done this a long time ago if that wasn't true."

"Yeah, but this is bigger than you and me," she said. "I'm just going to basic now but this is a commitment. That's not going to go away any time soon."

"I don't see how that changes a damn thing." He took her hand; this time she let him. "Here's all I can tell you. I love you. I love you and I'm not going to stop just because our relationship ends. I'm still going to worry about you and I'm still going to wait for you to come home. So you might as well stick it out."

She sighed. "Fine, yeah," she said.

He moved his hand up her arm and then pulled her into an embrace, resting his cheek on her shoulder. He didn't bother to ask her how long she'd been planning to do this—he could tell just from the way it happened that she hadn't planned it at all. She just thought of it, and decided to say it. That impulsive tendency of hers worried him at times. "Hey," he muttered.

"Don't get all moony on me now, Leonard," she mumbled back. "I don't want to spend the whole afternoon with you acting like that."

He pulled back enough to gaze in her eyes. "Just think about stuff. That's all I was going to say. We can fix things if something happens between us but it's going to be different where you're going. You can't just walk out if someone pisses you off."

She frowned and tilted her head a bit as she eyed him. "Don't try to lecture me," she said.

"I'm not." He sighed and returned to resting his head against her.

"Then let's eat and forget this happened," she said.

"Okay, okay," he said, pulling away.

Allison walked over to where he'd set everything out and sat down, pulling a plate to herself. "I mean it, Leonard," she said. "You still have that look on your face."

He rolled his eyes and moved to sit beside her. "I don't like thinking about losing you," he said. "You expect me to just move past the fact that this happened now, of all days?"

She crossed her arms. "You're a spoiled brat, you know," she said. "You're so used to getting whatever you want. Maybe I should have just stuck to my guns anyway just to show you how it feels."

"Don't punish yourself," he said.

She nearly laughed. "Sometimes I feel like I'm punishing myself by staying," she said, but she was teasing. At least, he thought so.

* * *

"Leonard, really." She carefully untangled her fingers from his and pulled her hand away. "You'll see me again in three months."

He looked over at her. Because they hadn't wanted to strain his eyes, Allison and Lawrence had insisted that Lawrence drive the three of them to the airport. This afforded Leonard the ability to spend the entire ride there sitting in the backseat with her. He'd been kissing her hand and caressing her wrist for most of the ride and she'd already told him to cool it once. He couldn't help it, though. "Three months is a long time," he said. At least it was a long time when they had never been physically separated.

She crossed her arms. "Wait until I'm deployed and then see if you think three months is a long time."

He frowned. "I'm not thinking that far ahead."

"I am." She sighed and pushed her hand over near his again. "Here. Just don't kiss it."

He took it and rubbed his thumb over the back of it. "You're thinking about it because you're looking forward to it," he accused.

"So what if I am? Leonard, this is what I want to do with my life. You have to understand that."

Leonard frowned and looked out his window. How had this gone from something she'd done out of necessity to the thing she prioritized over anything else? He wanted to ask her, but he wasn't sure he'd like the answer.

When they arrived at the airport the three of them got out, and Lawrence popped the trunk. "I'll carry this," he offered. "You two can stick together."

"Thanks," Allison said, but she didn't seem entirely happy about it. Still, she didn't protest. The two of them walked in silence until they reached the shuttle station. The she looked over at Leonard. "You're going to be okay," she said.

"I never said I wouldn't be," he said.

"Yes, you have. Not out loud, but by the way you act I know you're worried about me leaving."

"I just don't…" He trailed off.

"Yes, you do." She leaned in and kissed him.

He watched her as she pulled away, licking his lips. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"It doesn't matter. Because you can do this, Leonard." The shuttle arrived and the people waiting there piled onto it, Lawrence placing Allison's bag on the rack along with the others. Allison looked at Leonard, glancing at his hand. He could read what that meant. He avoided taking her hand on the shuttle ride to the front door of the airport, though he really wished he could.

"Here we go," Lawrence said once the shuttle pulled up in front of the airport, tipping the shuttle driver for them. "I'm just going to walk along the concourse, Leonard. Allison, I hope everything goes well. We'll see you."

"Yeah," she said. "Thanks, Lawrence." With that the two of them headed toward the check-in counter and got her bags and boarding pass squared away. Not one to carry a purse, Allison folded the piece of paper and put it in her pocket.

Leonard squeezed her hand now and then as they approached the security line. "I know I don't need to say this, but I'm going to miss you," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you didn't."

He looked over at the security line and pulled her hand over to kiss it one last time. "I guess this is goodbye."

She frowned. "Yeah," she said, glancing away. "I guess so."

"Keep in touch?" he said.

"Of course I will." She faced him and put her arms around him. "You can count on it."

He leaned in closer and touched his forehead to hers. "Don't want you to go," he muttered.

"I'm going," she muttered back.

"I know." He angled his head forward to kiss her, letting it linger, before slowly pulling back. "Bye."

She let him go. "Yeah," she said. "See ya."

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Everything You'll Ever Be - John Mayer (piano cover by Evan Duffy)  
_Since they've come back together, and with the need to shoulder adult responsibilities, their love comes to a fuller maturity_

Bike - Driftless Pony Club  
_Their love is wild and tempestuous but that just means nothing has changed_

The Good Witch Of The North - Everclear  
_Leonard remembers how good things have been between them since they reunited_


	19. Chapter 19

Modern technology certainly made it easy to pine for someone.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting here on the bed with his COM pad, paging through the letters she had sent him. Often matter-of-fact and short, there were those few that were as wistful and romantic as his own usually were, and those he read time and again. She had sent him the occasional photo of herself as well and he examined them, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

He was in the middle of rereading her most recent letter when he got the alert for an incoming video call. He put the glasses on the side table before sweeping the text off the screen and selecting the incoming call.

Allison appeared on the screen, wearing her duty uniform. Her hair was swept back into a ponytail. "Hi," she greeted him.

He straightened himself up. "Hi, baby," he said, thinking about her words in the letter he'd just been looking over. She'd pegged him right in that letter. He was getting depressed in her absence. Despite his attempt to bolster himself, he couldn't keep the edge of that out of his voice.

One of Allison's eyebrows arched, and when she spoke her tone was sardonic. "Well, gee, you sound excited. I figured you were looking forward to hearing from me."

"Look, I'm not going to pretend to be happy that we're separated, Allison," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I'm only doing this because you're making me."

Over the video feed he could see her rock back slightly and she shook her head. "You don't waste any time trying to push my buttons, do you? Can't we have a fucking talk without you trying to start some kind of argument?"

He brought the screen closer. "Allison…I really miss you. I like hearing from you so much but it doesn't make it easier that you're away."

"You're so clingy." She looked to the side for an instant. "Maybe you should find a hobby," she said. "Give yourself something to do."

"I've got school," he said.

"Yeah, I _know_. You just need to concentrate on that instead of thinking about me being gone all the time."

"I only have so much schoolwork to do." Once he was done with studying and homework he was left with nothing to do but think about her. He watched the recordings of their transmissions and reread her letters, but he wasn't sure that it helped very much. Maybe that made it worse.

"Yeah, but your surgery was a few months ago now. You've been cleared to do more, right?" There was a moment's pause. "I know," she said. "You could take up a sport."

"A sport." He rolled his eyes. "You remember who you're talking to, right?"

"You can always learn, Leonard. Pick up something…something like golf."

"_Golf_?" He snickered. "That's your best suggestion?"

"I don't know," she said. "Just try not to think about me a hundred percent of the time, that's all I'm asking."

He let himself slump back against the wall. "Yeah, whatever."

"Hey, let me see you with these glasses of yours," Allison said. "Come on, you can't string me along forever." He'd been wearing the glasses since the beginning of the school year, and Allison had been trying to get him to show her ever since then. It was rare in this day and age to see someone wearing glasses, but after his retinal surgery, he wasn't a candidate for lens replacement surgery to correct his astigmatism. The laser repairs to his retina were too delicate.

"I only have to wear them to drive." He hated the things and he avoided wearing them unless he absolutely had to. Though more and more he found he needed to wear them to read, as well.

"So? I want to see." She grinned. "Tell you what, you put your glasses on and I'll take my top off."

He raised his eyebrows. "No takebacks," he said, immediately reaching for the glasses and putting them on.

"Aw, look at you," she said, beginning to unbutton her shirt. "I like it."

"You would." He took the glasses back off, preparing to set them back down.

"Hey, you leave those on or I'm going to button back up," Allison said.

He frowned at her, then stuck his tongue out, before replacing them. "You got word on when you take leave yet?" he asked, watching as she pulled her arms out of her sleeves.

"Yeah," she said. "I get to come home in April. I'll be home for a week. That'll make it so I can take leave a couple more times this year."

"I like it," he said.

"I figured that'd make you happy," she teased. "You can fuss over me all you want and I won't even complain."

"That a promise?" he asked.

"Don't start any fights next time I call and I'll consider it."

"What are you talking about, I'm not the one who picks fights," he said. "Besides, we both know the best part of fighting is making up afterward."

She rolled her eyes. "That kind of making up's hard to do from out here."

He smirked. "How do you know I don't keep a record? You know, save 'em up for when you get home."

She laughed. "If you do that we'll both be picking fights when I call."

"I miss you so fucking much," he said with a grin. "You bitch."

"Oh, you've started keeping records already?" She laughed. "You selfish asshole."

"I love you, Allison," he said.

"You are wrapped around my little finger, I hope you realize that."

He shrugged. "When's the next time you get a video call?"

"Not for another week," she said. "You know I can't wait for another chance to see your ugly mug."

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "I know, seeing my face makes you hot. You don't have to hide it, I can tell."

"Now you're just projecting," she teased.

"Don't deny it," he said.

"I can't," she said. "Not now that you have those glasses."

"Oh, whatever," he said, rolling his eyes. She didn't need to make fun of him.

She looked over to the side then, and pulled her top back around her shoulders. "I have to go soon." She started buttoning back up as she continued. "My bunkmates will be coming back."

"Yeah, 'cause it would be a terrible thing for people to know about me," he scoffed. He had never understood the way she cloaked her private life in secrecy. That was something about her he had hoped would change, but it hadn't.

"I don't like gossip, okay?" she said. "You have no idea what it's like."

"I might if you would tell me about it."

This time there was genuine annoyance in her tone. "If you say one more word about that I'm going to hang up for real."

"Not if I hang up first," he said.

She laughed. "Yeah, right. I'd like to see you have the balls to do that."

Now that was one thing he couldn't back down from. He immediately tapped the button on the screen for disconnect. But he also opened a new messaging session. He typed up his message rapidly. "_I love you_."

Her response came immediately. "_Fuck you._"

"_Yeah, baby, I know. You can't wait, can you_?"

"_I love you too. Now shut up_."

The messaging session closed—she had disconnected it on her end. All he could do was sit there and grin to himself. At least that would hold him over for a while.

* * *

After all this wait to see her again, it shouldn't seem like a big deal for him to wait the few minutes it would take her to find her way to the baggage claim. But anticipation makes things seem to take longer than they really do. When she reached his side he was grinning; his face lit up at the sight of her. "I missed you," he said, putting a hand out to rest it on her side.

"I know," she said, gently pushing his hand away. "Let me get my bag."

He knew better than to offer to get it for her. He waited, hovering near her side, until her duffel bag appeared and she grabbed it. Then he stepped off to lead her out to his car. "Just so you know, I didn't plan any coming home party or anything," he said as they waited on the parking shuttle.

"That's 'cause you knew I would kill you," she said. "Seriously, I have access to weapons now. It wouldn't be hard."

He chuckled, sort of uneasily. "No, it's 'cause I didn't want to waste time being around other people when the one I want to see is you."

"Good choice." The shuttle arrived and she boarded it ahead of him.

Once it arrived at the parking lot she grabbed her bag and he led the way to the car. "So how do you like being a war widow?" she teased once the shuttle had pulled away. "I bet you get all the ladies with that story."

"Yeah, I've gotta fight them off with a baseball bat," he said.

"Between that and how you look in those glasses," she replied.

"You sure like talking about that," he said. "If I didn't know better I'd think you have a fetish."

Allison laughed. "How do you know I don't?"

"Just don't get too kinky with it," he said. They'd reached the car, and she put her bag in the back before sitting down in the passenger seat. He sat down beside her in the driver's seat and she grinned at him. He returned the smile, but his was softer, more sentimental. He gazed at her for a long moment.

She tousled her hair self-consciously. "What are you looking at?"

"You. I'm just trying to make up for all the time I couldn't look at you while you were away." He let his eyes roam down her body. She'd always been beautiful in his eyes, but with her absence he was noticing little details that he may not have paid attention to otherwise. She had become leaner and more muscular, and her face had matured somehow. He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss the back of it. It was silly, being so sentimental, but she'd been away so long. As she watched him he pressed another kiss on her wrist, moving up her arm.

She smiled alluringly. She used to tease him for the way he would look at her, but she was obviously relishing it now. _I always knew you still loved me_, she'd written in one of her letters. _Even during our time apart, you still looked at me that way when you thought I didn't see._

She leaned closer and kissed the corner of his mouth. He turned his head and pressed his lips to hers eagerly. Her lips parted and he tasted her sweetness, letting his tongue caress her bottom lip. Eventually they pulled apart, and she opened her eyes slowly. Her cheeks were flushed. "Leonard, take me home," she said.

A small grunt escaped his throat. "Yes, ma'am." He started the engine and pulled the car out of its spot. He couldn't help glancing at her repeatedly as they made their way. It was an hour's drive and every moment of it increased his anticipation.

They had barely made their way into the bedroom when she grabbed him by the upper arms and kissed him, letting the strap of her bag fall off her shoulder. He closed his eyes, sinking into her embrace. She pulled him in more tightly, grinding her hips against his. He let out a shaky breath and returned the pressure, resting his hands on her waist. She was kissing him intently, her lips firm against his, and she smelled like travel and sweat. It was different, but not bad. He fingered the hem of her shirt but before he got a chance to nudge it aside she shoved him backward to reach the bed. He acquiesced fully and sat down hard when she ran him back against the mattress.

"What do you want, huh, Leonard?" she asked, raking her nails down his sides.

He wriggled a little at the sensation. She'd always been stronger than him, but with the increase in her bulk he knew she could hold him down all she wanted and he wouldn't be able to escape. The idea excited him. "I don't care," he replied. "Just fuck me."

"No uniform kink, huh?" she teased. "All right. I want you to keep your glasses on."

He kicked her ankle with his toes. "I don't know what the fuck is up with you and my glasses."

"You look hot in them." She tugged on his shirt. "Don't complain."

He shoved the collar of his shirt up and out to clear his glasses, then leaned back on his arms. "I'll complain later." Right now he was just glad they were together and that he was about to see her naked.

"Not if I have anything to say about it." She pinched at his nipples, then shoved him back so he was lying down fully on the bed. All he could do was watch her, watch the look on her face as she pulled her clothes off. She was full of want, and the best part was knowing he was the one she wanted. She leaned in, kissed him roughly as she unfastened his pants and peeled them and his boxers away, her hands grasping at the fabric, her breath hot and close.

He looped his arms around her shoulders but otherwise stayed passive. God, she was trembling. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, shoving him down again. "I want you— Fuck Leonard, you look hot." She grabbed his dick, stroked it, squeezed it, and then grabbed for his hand. "Get me off first."

Gladly. He turned his hand over and stroked at her, feeling the firmness of her clit, knowing how aroused she was, and pressed two fingers inside her.

"Goddammit, no," she growled, wrenching his wrist away before resettling his fingertips at the top of her slit. "Here. Don't just shove yourself into me and expect that to get me off."

He knew that look on her face. That predatory look, that look that told him he'd better get things right or she'd find a way to punish him. He stroked her again, separating her lower lips and seeking out that fleshy mound to contact it more directly. She closed her eyes with a hum of appreciation. "There," she gasped. "Like that—" She sighed and flexed her hips, gliding herself against his hand, _fucking herself_ on his hand, and no wonder she'd been trembling. Her senses seemed heightened, ruddiness blooming across her neck and chest, and she opened her eyes to glance at him before wriggling into a position where she could lower her breast against his mouth. He drew the nipple in and sucked and bit it in the way he knew she liked. He felt like a tool, like something she was using, but it was in the best way. The longer he stroked her the more she pressed down into his hand, moving more frantically, gasping, sighing, gripping his shoulder with her nails. "Come on," she said, moving faster. "So close, God, Leonard…"

This time when he moved to stroke inside her, he kept his hand moving, dipping into her and gliding back up to her clit, feeling the satiny texture of her natural juices, and he was rewarded when she groaned, when she grabbed his hand to keep it tight against her, when she jerked her hips, gasping, slowing, moaning. "Fuck," she muttered once she had come to a stop. "You're really good at that when you want to be."

He withdrew his hand and set it on her hip. "You believe you're even sexier than I remember?" he asked as she readjusted herself.

"I'd better be, I worked hard on that," she said. She rested for a moment, slowing her breathing, before she reached over and got a condom out. "Your turn." She put the condom on him, then lowered herself onto him. He slipped inside easily since she had already come, and mouth turned up in a brief smile before she started to move. She didn't show any patience, setting on a quick rhythm.

His eyes fluttered shut and he grunted, flexing up against her. She responded by shoving down against his shoulders. "Goddamn," he said. She grinned and pinned his arms to the mattress. He groaned.

"See?" she grunted. "We both have our kinks."

"Mine's hotter," he said, trying to deepen their movements with some harder thrusts of his hips. He might be in a subservient position but that didn't mean he didn't have his ways of asserting himself.

The problem with that was she was fully capable of slowing if he pissed her off. Which was what she did then. "Don't turn this into a contest," she breathed into his ear, then bit at the lobe.

"No, I won't," he muttered, trying to thrust up harder. "Allison, don't slow down, don't stop—"

She slowed again. "Don't give me a reason to stop."

He shoved his head back into the mattress and closed his eyes. "Allison…"

"Beg for it," she said, once again letting his breath puff hotly against his ear, as she stopped moving.

He nearly whimpered. Of course she would try to crush his pride. He would never beg for anything. And yet—

"No?" She let go of his arms. "Well, I can stop. I'm already done."

"No no no," he whined, opening his eyes. "Come on, I waited months for this, you can't just leave me like this."

"Sure I can." She sat up. "_Beg._"

His breath caught. She was serious. Now he was the one trembling. "_Please_. Baby, please."

"Ah, you suck at this." She bent her mouth to his collarbone and nibbled on it. "You convince me by the time I'm done here," she muttered, then began to suck on the skin, hard.

He bit his lip. He wanted to make a sarcastic retort and he almost did, but he knew she absolutely would leave him lying here if that happened. So he took a couple breaths before replying. "Let me feel you and come inside you, _please_, I want you _so bad_. I _need_ you."

She moved her mouth away from his skin. "You need me, huh?" She smirked and started moving again.

"Yeah," he said, meeting her movements. This time she gripped his upper arms tightly and let her fingers dig into the muscle.

He didn't make any secret of the way this was all affecting him. The interlude had left him even hornier than before and he groaned and grunted his way along until finally coming to his climax. They were both left panting and she let herself drop down beside him on the bed. "How's that for a reunion?" she asked once she'd caught her breath.

He didn't answer, simply butted his head up against the crook of her neck. "Reunion," he finally muttered. "We're together."

"Of course we are," she said, brushing a hand over his head. "I came home just to be with you. I hope you appreciate it."

He took his glasses off so he could snuggle against her even closer. "If you didn't notice me appreciating it then maybe we'd better give it another go."

She laughed. "Maybe?"

He grinned. "Okay, definitely."

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

When You're Gone - Avril Lavigne  
_Leonard becomes a bit depressed in Allison's absence_

We Intertwined - The Hush Sound  
_Leonard has to rely on his memories and dreams while she's away_

Rose Tint - Lulu and the Lampshades  
_Leonard sifts through all his mementoes to help him remember what it's like to have Allison home with him_

Girlshapedlovedrug – Gomez  
_Allison is still that wild girl he fell in love with_

Sunshine of Your Love - Eric Clapton  
_In their limited time together they take the time to make love whenever they can_

Unforgettable - Nat King Cole  
_Leonard and Allison will never forget their time together during this leave or any time they have to spend together_

I Don't Want to Miss a Thing - Aerosmith  
_Having her home on leave, knowing she will only be here for so long, makes him want to make the most of the time they have_


	20. Chapter 20

Nothing about what was going on seemed real. Allison stared out the window as the plane landed. It was a mere two months since her previous leave, yet here she was again, making her way off a plane in Austin to meet her boyfriend and head to his home. This time, though, the trip wasn't meant simply for pleasure.

It had started when she had felt the tightening in her lower abdomen, a slight swelling just above her pubic bone. The area felt tight, and more sensitive to pressure than it usually was. Even when her breasts became constantly sore it wasn't enough to make her fully aware of what was happening; she had just thought she was going to have a late period and ignored it. It wasn't until she started getting sick, which was something she never, ever did, that she realized she had better take a test. A test that turned out positive. Regulations required her report the pregnancy to her CO within two weeks of the discovery, and she figured there was no point in wasting time.

Leonard hadn't questioned her when she'd alerted him that she was returning, which was for the best as far as she was concerned. The news she had to share was something she preferred to share in person. And they both were going to have a lot to process. She figured it was best for them to make a decision about this together, or at least to give him the impression they were making the decision together. She was in turmoil about it, but she was leaning more toward termination than she was toward seeing this pregnancy through. She had never seen herself as a mother. And she had never imagined herself going through a pregnancy. The idea scared her—this from someone who was rarely scared of anything. It was similar to the way she had felt when she first realized Leonard had fully accepted her as part of his life—knowing that she could simply consider herself to be at home in this place, with him and his father, when she had never settled down for anyone or anything before. It had taken some time for that to mature into a sense of belonging, and it was something she still struggled with at times. And now this?

Her contemplative demeanor continued as she deplaned and made her way to the baggage claim. Leonard was already there. He smiled when he saw her and she approached him. "Hey," she said. "I thought you'd be late."

"No, you didn't," he said.

That brought out a smile and she laughed. "You're right," she said. She grabbed her duffel and slung it over her shoulder, then began to walk toward the exit.

He fell into step beside her. "So how did you get to come home so quick? I know you decided to take more than one trip home this year, but I didn't think you'd get two so close together."

She lowered her gaze for a moment, then glanced over to him. "I'll tell you later."

"Tell me later? What is it, some kind of surprise?"

_You have no idea_, she thought. "Don't worry about it, Leonard."

"What'd you do, get kicked out?" She didn't answer. "Oh, God, you did, didn't you?" he said when he saw the expression on her face.

She shot him a glare. She was barely off the plane and there he was, running his mouth and being an idiot.

"Fuck," he said. "I mean…_fuck. _I can't believe you screwed up that badly."

"Shut up, Leonard," she snapped. His incredulity was irritating; he shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. By this time they had reached the front of the airport and she stepped onto the shuttle that had just arrived, loading her bag onto the rack and sitting down in one of the seats in the back. He followed her there and seemed to be watching her, but wisely refrained from saying anything with other people around. Allison stared straight ahead, not acknowledging his presence. By the time the shuttle arrived in Leonard's lot she had fully settled on what she preferred to do. There was no baby in her future, never would be. It was something she wasn't going to allow to happen. A career in the Marines was important to her and there was no telling how this long-distance relationship with Leonard would eventually turn out. She was a realist, after all. She might meet someone while deployed and end up breaking up with him. Or she might decide being single suited her better. She knew he would be devastated by that eventuality, but it was a potential outcome.

The two of them rose and exited the shuttle when it stopped, Leonard wisely allowing her to handle her own bag. He waited until the shuttle had pulled away to speak again as he led the way to the car. "I thought you said you'd be good with discipline if you did this. It's not like high school. You can't just—"

She whirled on him. "Shut _up_. I was going to tell you, but maybe now I won't."

He shook his head. "I just have a hard time believing it, that's all."

"You have _no idea what you're talking about_. So shut your fucking trap." She turned and continued walking at a fast clip. Unconsciously, she set her hand on her lower abdomen before noticing what she'd done and dropping her hand.

"Fine, whatever," he said, not trying to keep up. He unlocked the trunk once he'd reached the car behind her and popped it open with a snap.

She slammed the trunk shut after she'd deposited her bag and went to sit in the passenger seat. She'd intended to tell him what was going on as soon as they reached the car, but that wasn't going to happen now. She'd wait until she was less upset with him.

He got into the driver's seat and sighed exaggeratedly. "Don't get pissed off at me because of something you did."

"Shut the _fuck_ up, Leonard." She crossed her arms and looked out the window.

He started the car and pulled it out of the lot. She watched the scenery go by, refusing to look at him. At this rate she was going to simply inform him of the upcoming termination and take his car there herself. Not that she had a license.

"Allison," he said after they'd been on the road for a considerable period of time. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just worried."

"No, you're not," she said. "You just want me to tell you, so you're apologizing. Don't be such an ass."

"Don't be such a bitch," he replied. "You're going to have to tell me at some point."

"Who says? All you have to know is I'm home and I won't be going back until I get something taken care of."

"What kind of something?" he asked. He set his hand on the gearshift. "Is there any way I can help?"

"Not anymore." She still hadn't looked at him except to glance at his hand when he set it nearer to her. He better not reach over and touch her.

"Goddammit, woman, I'm trying now, okay? I know I shouldn't have started in on you like that, but you don't have to lock me out. I'm concerned about it."

"You should have thought about that before." She sank further into her seat. The seatbelt was pressing against her belly and causing her discomfort.

Thankfully he left her alone after that, and the silence stretched on even after they arrived at the house and she brought her stuff inside. She wasn't looking forward to sharing a bedroom with Leonard now. Perhaps she'd make him sleep on that old bunk bed tonight.

For now, though, she'd settle in on the couch and watch something and ignore him. He sat down on the armchair nearby but other than a few incidental things he didn't try to talk to her. They'd been sitting there for about an hour when Lawrence entered the house.

"Hey, Dad," Leonard said.

"Hello. Hi, Allison." Lawrence put his things away and came and sat beside her on the couch. "I trust you had a nice time traveling."

"It was fine." At least it had been until she'd been picked up. She shot Leonard a look, but didn't comment further.

"That's good." Lawrence glanced at his son when she looked at him like that but likewise didn't make any remarks. "Do you want to go out to eat for dinner?"

"Maybe." She sat up a bit. "I'd actually rather get takeout. Maybe from that Chinese place."

"Sounds good. I'll place the order." Lawrence took out his COM pad and selected the options he needed to connect to the restaurant. "Your usual?"

Allison wasn't sure how something that spicy would settle on her stomach. "No…sweet and sour chicken, I think."

"All right. And you, Len?"

"The usual," Leonard said. He sounded a bit sullen and Allison could tell he had his gaze trained on her.

The orders were punched into the system and Lawrence sat on the couch. "There we go. It should be ready soon. You want to go get it, Len?"

"Yeah, fine." He stood and got his keys, leaving the house and shutting the door firmly behind him.

"How are things?" Lawrence asked. "Seemed like you aren't very happy with him."

"How could you tell," she said. "He picked a fight on the way home. It was stupid."

"What was it about?" Lawrence asked, settling in on the couch more comfortably.

"Why I'm home. He wouldn't drop it when I told him I wanted to tell him later."

"He should have been patient," Lawrence said. "I know he's been wondering, though, ever since you called."

She snorted. "He assumed I've been kicked out and started to lecture me about it."

"Oh, goodness." Lawrence laughed a little. "I suppose you'll tell him later. He can wait."

He lifted her head. "Part of me doesn't want to bother to tell him at all. I'll take care of my business—and I'll be going back in my own time." She'd been considering doing just that on the way home, and though in some ways it would be easier, in others it would be much harder. As angry as he had made her, it would still be nice to have some support. She glanced over at Lawrence. Her eyes were stinging and she blinked in irritation. This was nothing to cry about. She would stick to her plans and do it on her own.

Lawrence studied her face. "Are you okay?"

She pressed her lips into a line. It wasn't okay, not by a long shot. She'd expected Leonard to be _there_ for her and instead he chose to be a jerk. "I—" To her dismay her face began to crumple and she bit her lip, taking a breath. "I came home, because, I'm pregnant."

Lawrence simply nodded, lifting a hand and putting it behind her shoulder as though about to set it there to comfort her. "I can see why you're upset with him."

"I just wanted to be able to tell him without him being a total ass about it." And now she really was going to cry. Irritated, she lifted a hand and whisked the tears that had gathered away with a finger.

"I understand," Lawrence said quietly. "You feel like he should have picked up on the signals you were giving off to be more sensitive."

"Exactly!" she said. "Exactly. I told him enough for him to know I wasn't ready to say—he shouldn't have pushed it."

"It's in his nature, I suppose." Lawrence lowered his hand to his lap again. "Unfortunately, as nice as it would be, it's unfair to expect your partner to be a mind reader."

She worried her lip. "I know. I know that. And he tried to apologize later on…" She frowned. "It was too little, too late by then. I was too pissed."

"The attempt to apologize does count for something," he said. "But I do believe you should wait and tell him in your own time, when you're ready. Don't feel you have to say something when he returns just because you already told me."

"Okay," she said.

"Would you like a glass of water?" he asked.

"Yes, please," she said, and accepted it once he'd returned with it. She took a small sip and blinked at the ceiling. "Thank you."

"Certainly," he said.

A long silence followed as Allison wiped her eyes and drank her water. It was a comfortable silence though, a companionable silence. She looked out into the room, her mind on nothing but what she would do, what she would say, when it came time to stop keeping Leonard in the dark.

"He'll be home soon," Lawrence said then. The restaurant wasn't far from their house; he glanced toward the window. "If you want to take some more time to compose yourself I can meet him in the driveway and stall him a bit."

She shook her head. "No. I'm okay." She sniffed and stood to move over to the table, her hand going to her lower abdomen again briefly. That had become a bit of a habit. She needed to avoid doing that when Leonard was around.

Lawrence sat down across from the seat she chose. "Have you considered the logistics of everything?" he asked. "I'm willing to help out in any way that I can."

She looked at him, her gaze blank. "I'm working on it," she said. She would leave it at that.

"Don't be afraid to ask me if you need any help with anything. I know it can be overwhelming."

Allison reached up and scratched her forehead. "I haven't had much time to think about it." And somehow she just couldn't bring herself to tell Lawrence she was considering termination. He had been the best support she had, and he had always been so kind, so telling him that kind of news seemed like it would be a low blow to him.

The door opened as she spoke and Leonard entered with a couple of bags. "Think about what?" he asked, coming over to the table and setting the bags down.

Allison raised her eyebrow and gestured in between herself and Lawrence. "We were just having a private conversation." She looked at Lawrence with a small smile. "Thanks for your advice."

"Hey, don't put me in the middle of this," Lawrence said, lifting his hands. "You're perfectly capable of getting under Leonard's skin without enlisting my help."

Allison laughed.

"She tell you what's going on?" Leonard asked his father.

"Yeah," Allison said, "and he's not going to tell you, so don't ask."

Leonard rolled his eyes. "I know he wouldn't, I just wanted to know if he knew."

"How about we concern ourselves with dinner and you can argue amongst yourselves later," Lawrence said, shaking his head.

Allison gave Leonard a pointed look and pulled her food over to herself. "I can manage that."

"I can too," Leonard said, moving to sit in the seat beside hers.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Allison said.

* * *

By the time she and Leonard were ready to head to bed she had come down considerably from her prior anger. Maybe she wouldn't kick Leonard out of the bedroom—maybe she'd even be civilized toward him. Even so, she turned her back to him when she went to get dressed for bed.

"I really am sorry," Leonard said, watching her. "I didn't mean to pick a fight. I missed you."

She sighed and glanced back at him. "You made assumptions."

"I did. Stupid ones." He got up and started to strip his clothes—he preferred to sleep in his boxers.

"As long as you can admit how stupid you were being." She turned to face him and he approached her.

"Hey, you tell me I'm stupid all the time. It's not like I could forget."

Her lips turned up just slightly. "The stupider you are, the more reminders you need."

"I'm not _that_ stupid." He tilted his head and kissed her on the cheek.

"Sure you are," she teased. "I only say it when it's necessary." She turned toward the bed to push the covers down and laid on the bed. Instead of going around the bed to lay down beside her he simply lowered himself onto her and folded his hands on her chest to set his chin on.

"Ow," she said. He was putting all kinds of pressure on her belly and breasts. "Get off me."

He laughed. "Come on, I thought you were tough enough to handle this."

"No, that _hurts_," she said, shoving him roughly toward his side of the bed.

He gave her a confused look and moved over. "Whatever you say."

"Yeah, you better remember that." She pressed her head back against the pillow. "Turn out the light."

He obeyed her order, taking his glasses off and folding them to place on the side table, and leaned his head against her shoulder. "You all right?"

She didn't answer. Instead she reached her opposite hand up and cupped his cheek. "You know I love you."

"I love you too, Allison," he said, raising his head and rolling on his side to wrap an arm around her. It was unusual for her to just offer that up like that. He nuzzled up against her neck and kissed her there. "Seriously, is everything okay?"

She found herself breathing a bit more heavily. Stupid. She couldn't stand the way these excess hormones made her feel. She took her hand off his face and rubbed her eyes. This wasn't going to happen, not right now.

"Allison?" he said.

"I'm pregnant," she blurted. "That's what's going on. I'm pregnant." And with that she really did start to cry. It was a new word for her, something she'd barely allowed to pass her lips until today. She'd only told a couple of her friends back on the ship. Telling Lawrence had made things easier to tell Leonard now, but it was still a scary thing to think about.

"Holy fuck." Leonard rolled to reach over and turn the light back on. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure." She sniffled and pulled up the blanket to use the corner to wipe her eyes with.

He watched her. "So what do we do now? Are you home the whole time you're pregnant?"

"I, uh…yeah." She looked over at him. "Leonard, I can't go through with having a baby. Can you imagine me as a mother?"

His face fell. "So you've already decided to abort?"

She trained her gaze on the ceiling. "I don't know. I decided to when you yelled at me earlier."

"We have to talk about this," Leonard said. "I mean, I know it's up to you in the end, but…"

"You want me to have it," Allison filled in.

"I haven't had enough time to think about it to know _how_ I feel, baby. I doubt you have either."

Her eyes were filling with tears again. "I haven't."

He grabbed for her hand. "We'll do this together. No matter how it turns out."

She turned her gaze on his face, grateful for his words. "I just want to know you'll be there. Be there for me."

"You keep me in the loop every step of the way, Allison." He squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss it. "And I'll be there. I promise you."

She rolled to face him. "Thank you."

He leaned in and kissed her. She closed her eyes and allowed him to drag the kiss out, and he kept the pressure of his lips gentle against hers. He seemed thoughtful, and the kiss broke with him looking at her intently. "And I _can _see you as a mother," he said.

She frowned. "No. Not now. Let's sleep on it and talk in the morning."

"Okay, all right." He leaned back to click the light back off and settled in beside her. "Tomorrow we'll figure it out."

"Yeah. Tomorrow." She rolled back onto her back and stared at the ceiling in the darkness. Her tears had dried up now. She let out a breath and let go of Leonard's hand to cross her hands over her belly. This was going to be a long, fitful night.


	21. Chapter 21

Her dreams left her restless, and she awakened before her eyes opened, thoughts of the future jumbled with continued disbelief and denial—surely she would find some error in all the symptoms and signs she was experiencing, and would be relieved to be able to tell everyone it had been a false alarm. There was no denying the symptoms themselves, however. She was sore, and she felt bloated. She brought her hands to her face and dragged them up along the planes of her cheekbones to her forehead and opened her eyes.

Leonard was facing her, lying on his side, and she looked over at him. "Have you been watching me?"

"You weren't awake yet," he said.

"That's creepy." She stretched and sighed before pushing herself up on the pillow.

He leaned in and kissed her. "How are you?"

She pressed her lips in a line. There was so much she could offer up about her fears and her doubts but instead she merely answered, "Okay."

"You sure?" He reached over to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, then trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

"Leonard, don't." She pushed his hand away. "We can talk about this without it being all…whatever it is you're acting like."

"I'm not acting like anything." He pushed back against his pillow to sit up halfway and put his glasses on.

"You're mooning over me, like I'm fragile. I'm not fragile." She sat up fully and crossed her arms over her abdomen, looking down at herself. She swallowed. This wasn't supposed to be happening. None of it.

"I know." He sat up as well and moved to put his arm around her shoulder. She took his hand and lowered it again.

He frowned. "What's your problem?"

"I told you." She crossed her legs and turned to face him. "We need to talk about this without being all sentimental about it. There are a lot of factors to think about."

"Factors," he repeated. "I don't understand that. You expect us to just ignore our emotions and just tick off the pros and cons?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's one of the factors, Leonard. How we feel about it is a big part."

He sighed. "Okay, well, what else is there?"

"Lots of things. Logistics. Money. How my career fits into it, yours too." He regarded her as she spoke, frowning. She waited for him to comment, but when he stayed quiet she prodded his leg. "What's wrong with you?"

"Your career," he said. "You'd stick it out in the Marines."

"_Yes_, I'd stick it out in the Marines. It's what I want to do, Leonard, why is that so hard for you to understand?"

He shook his head. "Just, with a baby involved…"

"Who do you think I am, Leonard?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "I know who you are. Forget I said it."

"You forget it too, then, because nothing about my career choice is going to change." She rubbed her cheek. "I don't know how motherly I'd be anyway."

"You'd be a mother," he said. "What that means is up to you. There's no right way to be a mom. I don't think anyway."

"All I've seen is the wrong way, though," she said. She swallowed and looked away, giving him a sideways glance. "You'd be the one in its daily life. I'll be gone most of the time."

He pushed his glasses up, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I…I realize that. So I have a lot of factors to consider just by myself." He slouched in place, thinking. "I wonder how much my dad would be willing to help out," he muttered.

"Your dad said he'd do whatever he could to support us," Allison said. "I don't think he was just saying that, either."

"No, he's sincere. He wouldn't just give lip service to something like that." He rubbed his chin. "I think I'm okay with it. Being the primary caregiver and all."

"You sure?" Allison asked. "You've still got school."

"We'd figure it out. It'll be okay." He reached for her hand.

She let him take it. Her other hand went to her throat and she rubbed at it. "How are we going to afford it?" she asked.

"It'll help if we combine our incomes."

She sighed. She guarded her money more closely than Leonard did. "I guess we'll have to. Since we'll both have to pay for things for it."

"We can get a joint account and both contribute the same amount to it," he suggested.

"Yeah," she said. "What are you going to do about school, though? You can't watch the baby when you're in class."

"You're talking like this is really going to happen," he said. "Is this really going to happen?"

"You act like you're afraid, all of a sudden," she said. "By the way you've been talking I thought you wanted it to."

"Is that what you're saying?" he demanded. "Is this happening?"

"Maybe," she said. "Maybe."

"Goddamn," he muttered. "Me as a dad. You as a mom."

"Yeah," she said. "Listen, we have a week before my leave is over. Let's talk about it more later."

"Okay," he said. He squeezed her hand and then let it go. "You want to go get breakfast?"

She nodded and got up out of bed to get dressed. As she pulled on her shirt and pants, she stayed wrapped up in her thoughts. There was a moment sticking in her mind, a moment she'd never forgotten, and it was that day that she'd offered up the chance for a relationship to Leonard. And he'd taken it, God had he taken it, he'd drawn her to himself and for whatever reason she'd felt more vulnerable than she ever had in her life. She knew that if she truly invested herself in him, in their relationship, he'd make a place for her. A place she could call home. And the concept of that had terrified her. She'd never submitted herself to it. In being a soldier she had found a place where she felt completely at home, a place she could almost consider to be her calling, and in doing that the pull toward Leonard had lessened. But this would create an indelible bond between them. No matter if they split, if things went wrong between them, they'd always have this child connecting them in a way they couldn't sever.

"Ready?" he asked, reaching for her hand.

She blinked back her thoughts and extended her hand to take his. "Yeah."

* * *

"I've got my new orders," Allison said.

Leonard was in the kitchen, helping his father make dinner; he wandered back in the living room when she said that. "What'd you say?"

"I said, I've got my new orders."

His eyebrows went up. "Wait. Why do you have new orders?"

She rubbed her arm with her opposite hand. "I told them I'm going to have the baby," she said.

"You didn't even tell _me_ that," he said.

She straightened herself up a little. "We were pretty much there," she said. "It's not like you would have argued with me if I told you that was what I had decided."

"We've only been talking about it for one day, Allison," he said. "I mean, I'm not trying to talk you out of it, I just want you to be sure before you go telling everyone."

"How sure do I need to be, Leonard?" she said. "I mean, I keep going back and forth—moment by moment I go back and forth. But the fact that I keep leaning so hard in the direction of keeping it…I mean, I know this is horribly cliché but it's something we made. Half you, and half me. I want to see that through."

He remained rooted there, looking at her.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" she asked.

He shook his head slightly. "I don't know, I just…this doesn't feel real."

"It doesn't feel real to me either," she said. "But if I waited for it to feel real I think I wouldn't be making a decision for a long time."

"Okay," he said, moving closer to join her on the couch. "Everything's set then?"

"Yeah," she said. "Everything's set."

"So you can stay?" he asked hopefully.

"No, Leonard." She leaned in a bit once he was seated, resting her shoulder against his. "I'm assigned to an Earth base until after I give birth. Then I can come home—for as long as a year, before I have to go back."

"They'd make you work until you give birth?" he asked, frowning.

"No, Leonard, it's up to me how late I work," she said. "I can take leave a month early if I want."

"I don't want to miss any of it." He took her hand. "I wish I could come with you."

"Don't you dare try. You already tried to screw up your schooling once, I won't stand for it if you drop out for this."

He frowned and rubbed his chin.

"Yeah, I knew what you were thinking," she said. "You'll survive it."

"I'll survive," he said. He leaned his head on her. "But I'm going to be calling you all the time. You know that."

"Yeah," she said with a sigh. "Yeah, I do."


	22. Chapter 22

"Hey, how're you doing?" Leonard said. He was standing nearby, watching as Allison leaned on the rail that lined the hallway.

She shot him a glare. "Ask me that one more time, Leonard, I swear to God."

"What? I just want to know if anything's changed. Don't be pissed at me for being concerned." He hung back just a little; he'd been doing a lot of that, trying to gauge what was the best distance to stand away from her. If he got too close, she got annoyed, but he didn't like to be too far away.

"No, nothing's changed, Leonard, I'm in _labor_. We've been walking around here for hours." She gestured up and down the maternity ward hallway. "That's all we've been doing, I'm not doing anything different, so I don't even know why you're asking."

"You've been stopping more often," he said. "That's all."

She scoffed and shook her head, pushing off from the wall and beginning to shuffle down the hall again. "That's because my contractions are getting closer together. That's called normal."

He caught up to her and began to walk as well. "You sure you don't want anything?"

"No," she said firmly. "No meds."

He frowned. "Well, it's just….the midwife said you won't be able to change your mind soon."

"Goddammit, I made this decision months ago, Leonard. Quit being such a Nancy." He knew her reasoning—she wanted to be in control of the situation, and that the idea that she'd possibly lose sensation in her legs from an epidural during the birth bothered her. But he didn't want her to suffer too much pain.

Before he had a chance to say anything further about that she stopped, setting a hand on her thigh to brace herself and reaching over to the rail again. She closed her eyes and made a strained 'mm' sound, rocking in place. Leonard was left standing ineffectually by, as he had been each time she'd done that.

"You good?" he asked when she stopped breathing through her contraction.

"_Leonard_." But her admonishment was followed up by a gasp, and she grabbed the railing with both hands.

"What? What?" he said, taking her by the upper arm in concern.

She shook him off. "I need to go to the bathroom."

He kept his hand cupped under her elbow, watching her face for signs that she was taking on more than she should. "You want me to help you back to the room?"

"I can handle it." She followed this up by glancing at him and letting go of the wall to lean on him.

"I know you can," he said, skimming a hand down her back before encircling his arm behind her waist.

"Then treat me like it," she said, leaning her weight into him before beginning to move forward.

He let her set the speed and took small steps to match her gait. "You'd be more pissed at me if I was totally cold about it, and don't deny it."

She shot him a look. "You wouldn't dare."

"Yeah, exactly."

When they entered the room she shuffled over to the rocking chair. Leonard followed her over there. "I thought you had to go to the bathroom."

"I just need a minute." She was taking deeper breaths now. She lowered herself and gripped the arms of the chair.

That was it. In his judgment it was best for the medical professionals to know what was going on. He went over to the call button and pressed it. "I'm going to call the midwife."

"_No_, I'm fine," she said, but of course by then it was too late. The midwife was there moments later.

"How's everything going in here?" the midwife, Rachel, said pleasantly, coming to Allison's side. Since Leonard hadn't been here during most of Allison's pregnancy he didn't know Rachel, but she'd been very supportive during the time they'd been here, despite Allison's poor mood.

Allison rolled her eyes. "Fine, he's just being a little bitch."

"How are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine. Just fine." With that she closed her eyes and began to rock the chair harder, breathing through another contraction.

"That's good. How about we check you now, though, it's been a while." Rachel followed this up by going to the wall dispenser to get a set of gloves.

"I think you've had your hand up my pussy more times than Leonard has," Allison said, going over to the bed and reclining on it. Leonard came to her side, setting his hand near hers so she could grab it if she wanted.

Rachel simply laughed at Allison's remark. Once she was done checking Allison she stripped the gloves and threw them away. "You're close, Allison. Nine to ten centimeters."

Allison was clenching her fists into the mattress and letting out a strained exhale as Rachel spoke. "A contraction?" Leonard asked. She nodded tightly. After she'd relaxed she tried to sit up.

"Hey," Leonard said, coming to her side and taking her arm. She tried to shake him off again but Rachel came to her other side.

"Let us help you up," Rachel said. "Then you can go use the stool."

The birthing stool had a U-shaped seat, making it possible for a woman giving birth to remain supported in a semi-squatting position while there was an opening for the baby to drop down into. Allison had chosen this option over others that were available to her. She let Rachel guide her over to it, and she sat on it, closing her eyes and clinging to the seat as she weathered the next several contractions.

"Does this mean she doesn't have long to go?" Leonard asked Rachel.

"Yes," she said. "From this point she'll need gravity to help her do the work. You'll be able to support her back; you can let her lean on you, and she may need support under her arms."

"Yeah, okay," he said, watching Allison as she rocked in place. He hated seeing her like this.

Suddenly Allison stripped off her hospital gown. "Oh, it's so fucking hot," she complained. "When did it get so hot in here?"

"She's close," Rachel said. "She's going through transition."

"Don't talk about me like that, I'm _right here_." Allison shot them each a glare and flexed her back, rolling forward into herself—as well as she could with such a large belly, anyway. "Oh, God."

"I'm sorry, Allison," Rachel said, pressing the call button before coming to kneel in front of her. "I want you to tell me, next time you have a contraction, whether you have an urge to bear down and push."

"I want to push _you_," Allison said. "Back up." She readjusted herself on the stool, leaning back a bit, groaning and arching her back.

"It's okay, Allison. I need to be here so I can catch the baby." Rachel looked at Leonard and gave him a nod.

"What the hell was that?" Allison asked, twisting to look at him. This was followed by a strained sound and she straightened herself out again. "Jesus, why did I decide to do this?"

"I was just letting him know he might need to support your back when you're ready to push." Leonard stood behind Allison, setting his hands on her ribcage. Rachel had set her hand on Allison's belly. After a moment she looked keenly into Allison's face. "There," she encouraged. "Do you feel like pushing?"

Allison groaned. "I can't do this," she said. "Leonard, I can't, I'm going to die."

Two nurses came in, wheeling a special cart with monitors and a heating lamp on it. "You can do it, baby," Leonard said. "You're strong."

"_Shut up_, Leonard," she snapped, nevertheless leaning into his touch. "This hurts like a motherfucker."

He rubbed her waist. "Yeah, I know."

She elbowed him. "No you don't. Shut up." Another groan, a longer, deeper one. "I…I've gotta push."

"Okay." Rachel kneeled down lower to the floor. "Push when I tell you to."

"I'm gonna…ugh," Allison moaned. Leonard could feel her shoulders tense as they rounded forward.

"Not yet," Rachel said. "During your next contraction."

Leonard clutched at Allison; he was upset by her cries, but tried not to show it. The sounds she was making became deeper and longer as she worked. That's what labor was; it was aptly named. Allison gripped the seat of the stool again, and Leonard braced himself to take on her weight as she pressed it against him.

He didn't know how long her pushing stage lasted. It seemed to go on a long time. "The baby's crowning," Rachel said finally. "One more push." Allison let out a long wail. "There's the head," Rachel said. "The cord's around her neck. Don't push yet."

But it seemed Allison was too close to completion and didn't quite register the command until it was too late. The baby dropped and Leonard squeezed Allison against him. Rachel deftly untangled the cord; a nurse handed Rachel a clamp and she cut the cord, allowing the nurse to whisk the baby away. Leonard watched in dismay. He'd been promised he could cut the cord unless something prevented it. Apparently this situation was dire.

"Okay, Allison," Rachel said, still kneeling in front of her. "You need to birth the placenta and then we can move you over to the bed."

Allison's face was lined with anxiety but she didn't ask after the baby, didn't put up any more of a fuss, as the placenta was passed and Leonard helped her to the bed. She reclined back on it and didn't protest as Rachel checked her again.

Leonard moved away from Allison's side, coming closer to the baby warmer, trying to watch as the nurses rubbed the baby with towels and tried to make her cry. They seemed to be purposely blocking his view.

"You didn't tear," he heard Rachel say. "You're doing good."

Leonard returned and rubbed Allison's hand. By now small cries had begun to sound in the room and he gave Allison a gentle smile. "You did good," he said.

Allison turned her head to look at him and Leonard squeezed her hand. "She's okay?"

"Yeah, I think so." He had forgotten his camera until now. He brought it over and took pictures while they measured and weighed the baby, and pressed her little footprints onto a certificate of birth. By the time Leonard returned to her side, Allison had been covered by a blanket and settled into bed. The baby was being placed in Allison's arms. She seemed to feel slightly awkward as she tried to settle the baby against her bosom, which struck Leonard as kind of cute; it wasn't often she seemed to be out of her element. Allison licked her lips and smiled just faintly, stroking the downy head with one finger. The hair on their child's head was jet black. "She has your hair, Leonard," she said.

Leonard reached out and caressed the baby's cheek. He had known academically how a newborn was supposed to look—he'd done plenty of reading up on this subject during the months of waiting—and so the tiny body and wrinkled skin shouldn't surprise him. It did though. The baby made small sounds, rooting around for her mother's breast, and a nurse came over to help Allison begin feeding the child.

Another nurse came to their side, holding a datapad. "Do you have a name for the baby?" she asked.

Leonard looked at Allison. They'd discussed many options, especially after they'd learned the baby would be a girl. "Moment of truth," he said. "Are we ready to settle on something?"

Allison had insisted on choosing a name that had a meaning of significance. Leonard had been more concerned that they chose something that other kids wouldn't make fun of. Allison smiled and looked down at the baby. "Valerie," she said. "It means 'strong'."

"And for a middle name?" the nurse asked, noting down her choice.

"You can choose, Leonard," Allison said, glancing up at him with a small smile.

"Leanne," he said. It had been a name he'd been favoring because it sounded similar to his own name.

Allison let out a light snort and shook her head. "I should have known."

The nurse smiled and left the two of them alone then.

Leonard watched Allison nurse the baby, snapping a few more pictures before lowering the camera. "I can't believe it," he said. None of this seemed real.

"What can't you believe?" Allison asked, her eyes heavy-lidded as she looked at him.

"Any of this," he said. "Allison…you're beautiful."

"Ha." She laid her head back, apparently about to fall asleep. "Try saying that sometime when it's actually true."

"It _is_ true." He bent down and kissed her forehead, then the baby's temple.

Later, he watched as the nurses returned for the baby, taking her from her sleeping mother and setting her in a wheeled bassinet so they could take her down to the nursery and bathe her.

Leonard went to the hall, to the observation window in the nursery, and watched as a nurse worked on her. She was tiny—and absolutely beautiful. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box he had brought here with him. He'd saved up for a long time for it, during Allison's entire pregnancy, picking up more hours working than he probably should have in order to be able to afford it before Allison gave birth. He'd purchased it right before leaving to join her at the base, and he looked at it now—a simple black sapphire in a silver band. It would match that necklace he had bought for her so long ago. He was both excited and nervous about asking her—but for the most part he felt assured she'd say yes.

x-x-x-x

Allison sighed. She had made a few friends in the time she'd been stationed on the base and a couple of them had just been by to visit. She motioned Leonard over to take the baby. "Put her in the bassinet. I want to go lie down."

"They're going to be bringing dinner by soon," he reminded her, cradling Valerie in his arms as the baby was passed off to him.

"I know." The celebratory dinner was provided by the hospital on this, the second day after Allison had given birth. After that she could be discharged. She was looking forward to returning to her house. Yet she'd also been looking forward to partaking in the special meal.

Leonard laid Valerie down. She fussed a bit, then stretched and closed her eyes. This was an opportune time to take a few more pictures and he pulled the camera out to capture some images, first of the baby and then a few of Allison.

Allison made a face. "Put that down. I still look like crap."

"No," he teased. "I have the power to take as many embarrassing pictures I want if you don't behave."

"I might be recovering but I'm not afraid to get out of this bed and kick your ass," she said.

There was a knock then and the door opened. "Food service," someone said from the other side of the curtain.

"Yeah, come in," Leonard said, throwing it aside.

Things were soon set up, complete with a table cloth and stemmed glasses for their water and juice. Covered dishes were put in place last and the food service worker smiled. "Enjoy, and congratulations," he said.

Leonard smiled at Allison as the worker left. "Come on, baby."

She shook her head at him and carefully arose, making her way to one of the chairs at the table and perching herself in it. The moment he'd been waiting for was approaching and he sat across from her, knowing he wouldn't be able to hide his excitement and nervousness from her. He didn't even try.

"You sure were looking forward to this, weren't you?" she said, picking up her fork.

He shifted to get comfortable in his seat. "Yeah. Not for the reason you think, though."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He looked her in the face while he worked to shove his hand into his pocket and extract the ring box. "I have something for you."

She looked at him warily. "What?"

He finished pulling the box out and held it in front of her. "I, uh…" He looked into her eyes. "Allison, I love you. And now that we have a baby and we're, you know, we've been together a while now and I think this is a good time."

"Leonard," she said, putting her hand over his and lowering it.

He extracted his hand and opened the box to present the ring to her. "I just wanted to ask you if you'd marry me."

Allison pressed her lips into a line. She seemed to be looking at the ring, and he wondered if she recognized the significance of the gem he had chosen. He took a breath, trying not to fidget. This wait didn't seem to bode well.

There was a long pause before she spoke. "…No. No, Leonard."

That seemed to have been where things were going. He gave a small nod, numbly swiping the box shut with his thumb and putting it back where he had gotten it from. He hadn't even considered that she'd say no. Wild assumptions whirled through his mind—she'd been intending to break things off after the birth. She'd been stringing him along for the moral support and had been intending to leave with the baby afterward. She'd been going through this intending to stick him with the baby and leave herself. But none of these things were things he was willing to give voice to, lest he cause one of them to come true. Instead, he straightened himself up in his chair and tried not to look the way he felt.

"I don't know what you were expecting," Allison said, breaking the silence.

He tried not to frown. "I thought I was making us both happy."

"By surprising me after a long day—a long _couple_ of days, when I'm exhausted, asking me that without even talking to me about it in advance to see how I feel about it?"

He sighed. "What needs discussed, Allison? Either you want to marry me or you don't."

"When is anything ever that simple?" she asked. "Think about stuff before you do it."

"So what, if I'd done it some other way you would have said yes?" he said.

She looked away from him, out the window. "I don't know. I need time to think about it."

"Time to think about it," he repeated. What was so hard?

"Yes, time to think about it. You need to respect me, Leonard. Don't assume."

This time he did frown. She still wasn't looking at him. "You know I have to leave tomorrow." He'd already taken two weeks off to be with her, missing classes and work. She'd be joining him after she and Valerie had their six week checkups, a separation he had wished he wouldn't have to endure.

"I'll tell you when I'm ready for you to ask me again," she muttered, giving him a glance. "Just be patient."

"That's practically a yes, Allison. All that means is you want to put off setting a date."

She glared at him. "_No_, it's not. You're still making assumptions."

"Fine," he muttered. "So we're okay, then?"

"As long as you stay in line."

With that Allison uncovered her plate and Leonard reluctantly did the same. The lump in his throat made it difficult to choke down the steak and potatoes. By the time they were both done eating he felt he needed to take a few minutes to himself. "I'm going to go check and make sure we're all set," he mumbled after setting his napkin down.

"Good then, go," she said.

He got up, moved out into the hallway and down to look in the nursery's observation window. Several babies were sleeping inside. He let the tears come then. He'd had a picture in his mind of how things would be from here on in and now all of that was in turmoil.

By the time he returned there was a nurse already there, helping Allison to finish packing. "There's Dad," the nurse said pleasantly. "Do you want to put the baby in her car seat?"

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, okay."

x-x-x-x

Leaving the next day was hard. Not only was he leaving his girlfriend and child behind, things were still slightly strained between them. He was quiet as he got his bag and went to the door. Allison was holding Valerie in her arms.

"Time to say goodbye to Daddy," she said, stroking the baby's hand.

His heart leapt to his throat. _Daddy_. That didn't seem possible. It almost felt like someone would arrive and accuse them of stealing this baby. He approached them and looked Allison in the face. "I'm going to miss you," he said.

"I'll see you soon," Allison said.

"Six weeks from now," he said. That seemed like a long time to him.

"Yeah, six weeks. It's not that long."

"I know."

She sighed. "You need to go."

"Yeah, I do." He backed up a step. "Well…goodbye."

"See you," she said.

With that he was left with nothing to do but leave. He made his way out the door and to the car. Once he was settled in the driver's seat he saw that she had come to the door and he gave her one final look, before leaving without her.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

In Metal - Low  
_They had their trepidations before she came, but once their daughter is born they fall in love with her_

You Ruined - Jonathan Coulton  
_Carolina's birth means everything changes for them, and it's the happiest kind of change they could imagine_


	23. Chapter 23

He settled on the bed, at the edge, watching her as she sat nearby nursing the baby. Her blond hair was freshly washed, and hung over her shoulder, where the baby had a lock of it clenched in her fist.

"Come on," he said. "The lab's still open. It won't be a big deal."

She stroked the baby's hair with her thumb, feeling its silky texture, and let herself slowly relax against the wall; she'd been sitting with a stiff posture as she worked at latching the baby onto her breast. Nursing was a skill, as the lactation consultant had explained to her, and even seven weeks into it, it still didn't quite come naturally.

"How do you know your dad is going to be okay with watching the baby while we're gone?" she replied. "She's fussy in the evenings sometimes."

"Are you kidding? He'll be thrilled." Leonard gestured with his head toward the door. "Come on, you've barely put her down in her whole life, I think she can handle us being away for an hour or two."

Allison rested her hand on the baby's back. It felt warm and solid; it was still hard to believe sometimes that she existed. "It's good for babies to be held," she said. "And I don't know. I'd worry about her the whole time."

"What, you don't trust my dad?" he said. "He took care of me when I was a baby."

"And look how you turned out," she said, a slight smirk turning the corner of her mouth. The baby hummed and swallowed the milk she was drawing from Allison's breast and Allison traced the shell of her ear with a fingertip. "How about you go ask him and see what he says about it first. I don't want you making assumptions."

"Yeah, sure," he said. "But I'm telling you he'll be fine with it." He got up, shoving off the bed, and descended the stairs two at a time. His father was at the table, eating dinner. "Hey, Dad," he said.

"Hey, Len," Lawrence said. "In a hurry?"

"Might be," Leonard said. "I was hoping to take Allison to the lab before it closes so she can meet the program's AI, but to do that we need you to watch the baby."

Lawrence smiled. "I was wondering when you'd get around to asking me. You two haven't had any time alone since I don't know when." He stood and took out his wallet, pulling out a few bills in cash. "Why don't the two of you go out to dinner while you're at it?"

Leonard took the money without question and turned. "I told her you'd be okay with it."

He returned to the bedroom after shoving the money in his pocket, and stood just inside the doorway. "Ready?"

She looked at him and rolled her eyes. "No, Leonard, it takes half an hour to feed her, you know that."

Leonard watched her for a minute, returning to the bed and remaining standing by her side. "You know, for someone who said she wouldn't be very motherly you sure do have this down."

"I don't know that you're the best judge," she said.

Leonard scoffed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She looked up at him. "How many mothers have you hung around with? How many people with kids at all?"

"None," he said. "Doesn't mean I can't tell you're doing a good job."

"Whatever, Leonard," she said, looking down at little Valerie, an unconscious smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Once the baby had been nursed on both sides and had been burped Allison offered her to Leonard. "Let me get up," she said.

He took the baby and cradled her to his chest. Allison had only been back for something over a week at this point and he had barely had the chance to hold Valerie since their return. He looked down at her; her eyes looked past him, unfocused, and she waved her hands unsteadily in the air, making little grunting sounds. He could do nothing but stare at her. This child was half him. He'd created a life.

Allison drew up to his side and reached to cup her hand around the side of the baby's head. "Isn't she perfect?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice hushed. "She's yours. That makes her perfect."

She nudged his arm, smiling. "Don't you forget it." She moved to face him and reached for the baby. "Here, let me have her."

Leonard passed the baby off into her arms, then turned to lead the way downstairs. Lawrence was waiting for them in the living room and he smiled when he saw Allison approaching. "Ready to give her up?" he asked, reaching out for Valerie.

"Not if you put it that way," Allison said, though she only sounded like she was half-teasing. She handed the baby over carefully.

"Don't worry about us," Lawrence said, chucking the baby under the chin. . Leonard had to admit to himself how happy his father looked to be holding his granddaughter. For Leonard it was simply advantageous that they had a built-in babysitter, but the fact that Lawrence was so glad to be taking on the job was nice for him. It was really helpful that they had been allowed to continue living here, though sometimes he and his father butted heads. Now that the baby had been born Lawrence had stopped charging them rent, which gave Leonard a real incentive to stick around until graduation. Though it went without question he'd be going on to get his master's, he'd sort out what was going to happen when he was working on his graduate degree later. He'd already lived here for three years after high school and he felt like by the time they'd lived here four years he'd be pretty well done with the whole thing.

"Ready?" Leonard asked Allison.

She gave one more backward glance and then nodded. "Good to go."

The lab was still open, but since it was evening, there weren't many people in the department. He led Allison to the main terminal and punched in some commands. "So this is Adam," he said when the AI's avatar appeared on the holotank dais. "He's a pretty rare specimen. Someone donated their brain to the university so we could have him."

"Yes," the AI said. The hologram depicted a shirtless man, muscular and tan. "The university students are getting quite an education by interacting with me."

"Adam's pretty proud of that, I think," Leonard said.

"I am," Adam said. "There aren't many universities that hold a smart AI."

Allison looked amused. "Leonard's told me all about it, so you don't have to brag to me," she said. "You're just as impressive as I was told." A smart AI could only be made by drawing from the brain of a recently deceased person, making them rare and expensive. They had much more processing power than a so-called dumb AI, and had the capacity to learn new information on their own rather than needing it to be programmed.

"I'm glad my reputation precedes me," Adam said. "There are those who think I'm a bit full of myself, but why shouldn't I be?"

"I don't see any reason," Allison said with a laugh.

"And who is this?" Adam asked. "I've never seen you in the lab before."

"I'm Leonard's girlfriend," Allison said, glancing at Leonard. "He wanted to show off what he does all day at school."

"And I'm the first thing he brought you to see?" Adam asked. Allison nodded. "He shot his wad all in one go, then," Adam said.

Allison laughed. "You sure don't sound like a computer program."

"He's a lot of fun to work with," Leonard said. "Right now we're working on extracting data about AIs and language—how and why they choose the words they do to speak."

"It's all very important work," Adam said dismissively. "I study humans and why they're such dumbasses."

Allison laughed again. "Do the students share much about their personal lives with you?"

"Some do. They seem to use me as a sounding board, like I'm their therapist or something."

"And does Leonard do that?" she asked, giving Leonard a look.

"Sometimes," Adam said. "I know about your daughter. She's seven weeks and three days."

"I was just excited after she was born," Leonard said. "I was bragging."

"I see." Allison looked at him with a repressed smile. "It was nice to meet you, Adam. I think we're ready to move on, though."

"Don't be afraid to visit again," Adam said. "It gets boring at night."

"I'll make sure to do that," Allison said.

Leonard bent at the computer terminal again and caused Adam's hologram to disappear. "I suppose Adam's right, there's not much to show you that'll impress you now."

"Maybe we should go ahead and go home then," Allison said.

"Dad gave me money to have dinner," Leonard said. "Enough for something nice, too."

"Oh, in that case," Allison drew up to his side, smiling. "We'll need to get back in time for me to feed her, though."

He sighed. "Obviously."

Dinner was nice, and he managed to convince her to stick around for ice cream. But eventually she looked at the time on her COM pad and glanced back at him. "We need to get going," she said, tucking it back in her pocket.

He shrugged. "We haven't been gone that long, honestly."

"Long enough for our first time out," she said firmly.

"Yeah, sure." He rose from the table and put down a tip. It was just a touch annoying that her full attention was on the baby all the time. She barely seemed to expend any of her brainpower toward him, even after he was gone all day at school. He understood that a baby needed a lot of care, but he was starting to feel a bit neglected.

When they arrived things were quiet, the light in the front room dimmed. "Dad?" Leonard called into the house.

Lawrence emerged from his bedroom. "Not too loud. I fed her and got her to sleep not long ago."

"See?" Leonard said to Allison. "She was fine."

Allison directed a small smile at Lawrence. "I didn't mean for you to have to feed her."

"Hey, that's why you've been putting milk in the refrigerator, right?" Lawrence said. "It was a pleasure, so don't worry. She was very calm."

"Oh." Allison hadn't forgotten she'd been doing that, but she'd sort of never expected to use it, either. She thought of it more as an emergency supply. But if it didn't get used, it would go bad, so really, this was exactly the sort of situation it was good for. "Yes," she said.

"I guess we'll be heading upstairs, then," Leonard said. "Night, Dad. Thanks for everything."

"No problem at all, and don't be afraid to ask again," Lawrence replied.

Leonard followed Allison up the stairs; she entered their bedroom and went to the foot of the bed, where Valerie's bassinet was set up. It was empty. She immediately turned around to move past him to the hallway. She'd been reluctant to move the baby down the hall to Leonard's old bedroom, where the crib was set up. Apparently that's where Lawrence had decided to place her, though.

"Hey," he said, setting a hand on her arm. "Where are you going?"

"I want to go check on her," Allison said.

"You'll just wake her up. Look, we've got the room to ourselves." He slid his hand around to her waist. "Don't you want to take advantage of that?"

She eyed him. "Well…maybe."

He faced her and set his hands on her hips. "Come on, after all the time we've spent apart?" He leaned in and kissed her briefly. "I'm surprised you haven't jumped me yet."

She frowned. "It's hard to get into the mood, Leonard." Everything about her body seemed different now. Since the baby had been born she'd gone back to working out, trying to keep toned, but the pooch of her belly where the skin was puckered and sagging wasn't going to go away just like that. On top of that there was the fact that her breasts had become something altogether different—tools in her efforts to keep their baby healthy and nourished. She was a mother now and it was hard to mentally switch roles back to lover.

"I'll help you," he said. "Come on, I know what you like." He ran his hands up and down her sides, then smirked and did the same thing with his nails. "See?"

She smiled slightly and shook her head. "It's not simple as that." But he had her attention now, anyway. She put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. Getting turned on was going to be a slow process, one where she turned her mind away from her motherly duties and concentrated on his affections instead.

He bent his head and nibbled at her jaw, gripping her waist and he shifting them to massage his fingertips into her flesh.

"Harder," she muttered, angling her chin to press it into his mouth. He was making an effort, that she appreciated, but for someone who claimed to know what she liked he sure was holding back. To emphasize her words she brought one of her hands to twist it into his hair.

He made a pleased grunt and nipped a little harder, dragging his teeth against the rise of her jawbone. One hand glided from her waist to her front, to play against her breast.

She shifted, breathing out with an uncomfortable little catch in her throat. "Don't do that."

"Wha'," he muttered, deepening the pressure of his bites just a slight bit more.

"Don't touch my boobs," she replied, moving a hand to shove his away. They were tender, even more than they would be normally, because she'd missed a feeding. They felt full.

He let out a sound, a frustrated grunt under his breath, and moved his hand to squeeze her ribs. He bent his head and kissed her neck, then finessed his hands beneath her shirt and carefully pulled it off. That gave him the better advantage to scratch along her skin, and he pressed in to kiss her, keeping his hands roaming from her sides to her back, but avoiding the area that her bra still covered.

Once their kiss broke she figured she'd return the favor, though as it always happened, he had to help her push the shirt out of the way of his glasses. She nuzzled against his cheek before moving her face to deliver a sharp bite to his earlobe.

"Hey, now," he said. She knew that was bit much for his pain tolerance. He didn't get off on things like that the way she did. But his tone also said that he didn't mind as much as all that. He sighed and pressed his face against hers, reaching behind her to unfasten her bra.

"No," she said. "Leave that on."

He pulled back, his forehead creasing in confusion and irritation. "I'm not going to touch them."

"I just want to keep it on," she said. She reached for the button on his jeans, expecting that to distract him.

"What the hell for?" he asked. She was wearing pants with an elastic waist and he hooked his fingers in the sides.

"I'm just more comfortable with it on," she said.

"I haven't even seen you naked since you've been back." Her fingers had continued to fidget with his button and he tilted his hips slightly to invite her to finish unfastening it.

Her hands stilled. "That better not be a goddamn problem because I'm not taking it off."

"Fine." He kneaded her hips underneath the fabric of her pants with his fingertips. She sighed, then finished pulling the waist of his pants down, helping them clear his hips, then giving him a chance to kick them away before holding still to let him do the same for her.

He brought her closer then, and gripped her against himself, a hand moving into her hair to tug at it. "How hard do you want me to fuck you?" he asked, his voice low.

She let out an exasperated exhale. "I don't. You always think you can just stick your dick in me and that's all I need."

He frowned. "What the hell do you mean, you don't?"

"I mean I'm not ready to just jump in the sack with you and have you ram yourself into me. There are other ways to get off that don't include pushing me too hard before I'm ready."

"What is there to get ready for?" he said. "Either you want to have sex or you don't."

"No; it's not that simple, Leonard. You're always running your damn mouth without knowing what you're talking about. Maybe you should put it to better use."

"_Oh._" He smirked. "If that's what you wanted, why didn't you just say so?"

"I did. Not anymore." She disentangled his arms from around her and stepped back. "Next time be more sensitive."

"Next time?" he made to grab her wrist, then seemed to think better of it. "When's that going to be, huh? I'm sick of just relying on my own hand to get off."

"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes. "So this isn't about being together, it's about getting off. I see."

"No, it's not," he scoffed. "Quit trying to stick words in my mouth."

She scowled at him. "That's what you said."

"Well, that's not what I meant, bitch. I want to make you come too."

She tilted her head and eyed him. "You do, huh."

His eyes narrowed in confusion. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking you should prove it." She folded her arms and watched him for a moment, then moved to the bed. "Jack off for me."

He followed her. "Can I come on you? On your chest?"

"Fuck. No. I told you I'm keeping my bra on." She shooed him with one hand. "Stand back there. Come into your hand."

He moved back where he'd come from, reluctance showing in his stance. "What comes after that?"

"You do a good job and I'll let you stay the night with me," she said. "So you'd better get started."

Allison watched him as he began stroking himself. She smiled wryly. He almost looked embarrassed. It wasn't like she didn't know this was something he did all the time on his own. He started out slowly, thumbing at the head of his cock. He seemed unenthusiastic about it. She let out a small chuckle as she lounged back against the wall, spreading her knees apart and setting her hand on her mound. By the way he was acting it was obvious he hadn't realized what her plans were and she watched with amusement as his eyes widened slightly.

"Damn," he said. "You didn't tell me you were going to do that."

"It was none of your business," she said. She gestured at him with her head. "Go faster."

He obeyed without protesting. "So does this turn you on?"

She rolled her eyes. "What a fucking stupid question." She started to move her own hand, dipping her fingers into her vulva and dragging them back to her clit. "Come on, act like you like it."

He stroked his full length between pumps of his hand on the upper half of his shaft, clearly watching what she was doing, breathing quickening as he watched the work of her own hand. She didn't take her eyes off of him, and once he appeared to be closer to completion she began to press her fingers into herself between passes of her clit. She closed her eyes momentarily before focusing back on him. Her breasts were swelling with the increase of blood flow and hormones, and she felt strangely engorged with milk. She'd read about how a lactating woman's milk could come down when she orgasmed, and it seemed that was what was about to happen. She could do nothing but give into the sensation—that or stop, and she wasn't inclined to stop. The pressure increased as she neared completion, and when she came she gasped and cupped one breast with her free hand. This was damn weird—a sensation she associated with feeding the baby overcoming her and becoming a part of getting off.

Leonard came moments after she did, fascinated by the sight of her. He moved to clean up his hand, then came and sat on the bed with her. "Whoa," he said. The nursing pads in her bra had soaked through and her bra was all wet.

"Don't make a big deal out of it," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Get a towel."

He went over to the dresser and pulled one out. She removed her bra and took the towel to press it against her chest. She'd probably continue to leak for a while. She scooted down to lie on the bed. He sat beside her, smoothing a hand over her stomach. "Just so you know, that was one of the hottest things we've ever done."

"I thought you were tired of jacking off," she teased. "Next time be more sensitive and we can have sex."

"Yeah, yeah." He took his glasses off and set them on the side table. "Next time explain what your problem is and I won't react like that."

"It's not my responsibility to keep you from being a jerk. That's all on you." She reached up to wrap her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.


	24. Chapter 24

"Leonard," Allison said.

It was late in the night—Leonard had no idea what time, but he had stirred because of Allison arising to get the crying baby out of the crib down the hall. He knew her routine—she would always lie down on her side, and roll Valerie toward her to latch the baby's mouth onto her breast. This time, from the sound of it, she was facing his direction. So she was close when she spoke and therefore impossible to ignore.

"Mmn?" he muttered in reply, not moving from his position, turned three-quarters away from her with his face buried in the pillow.

"Listen," she said. "…Are you listening?"

There was a grunt of effort as he turned, rolling on his belly and turning his head to face her. "What?"

He felt her shift, settling into the mattress. "You know," she said, "your dad really cares about the stuff going on with us."

A silence hung between them while Leonard fought off the lethargy that was tugging at him—whatever Allison was talking about seemed important to her and he oughtn't just fall asleep again. It was a strange topic to launch into in the middle of the night, though. He sniffed and rubbed his face. "Yeah, he's like that," he finally said.

"We should do the same for him," she said. "I don't think you pay any attention but it kind of hurts him that you don't care about keeping any of the holidays."

Leonard grunted and finished turning onto his side. "Let me guess," he said. "You think we should humor him."

"No, Leonard, I think we should _care_," Allison said. "He explained to me what it means to him and he talked a lot about relationships. The way that you integrate into your community as a Jewish person and the way you relate to the members of your family. You should feel lucky you have that, you know. Even if your grandparents aren't in your life, you have your dad and you have me and Valerie, and that's pretty important."

Leonard opened his eyes in the darkness. It had been many years since he had bothered to keep any of those traditions. They had had thin ties on him growing up. With his father estranged from his own parents, their observance of holidays had only been kept as long as Leonard had remained interested—and his interest was one of the casualties of their move to Texas. He had been fourteen when the move occurred, and with each event that came along in the calendar, he was less likely to agree to attend services with his father. Part of it was teenage apathy, but part of it was plain old rebellion. He was happy to accept his father's Hanukkah gifts, of course, but when it came time for fasting or other traditions he just didn't bother.

And eventually, his father had stopped inviting him.

Maybe it would be more like him to follow his immediate impulse and argue back against the idea. And maybe it irritated him that it seemed his father was trying to put the distance between them on Leonard's head. Maybe Allison would drop it if he disagreed.

Thing was he didn't exactly disagree. He passed a hand over his eyes, rubbing at them. "You're thinking you'll convert, then?" he asked.

"Well, yes," she said. "I've done a lot of reading and that's what I want to do."

"You've never brought this up before," he mumbled.

"I wanted to be sure," she said.

"You could have talked to me about it," he said.

"No, I don't think I could have," Allison replied.

"What?" he said. "I wouldn't have argued with you, if that's what you think."

"That's exactly what I think," she said. "You argue with me about everything. And I didn't want you throwing a wrench into this when I was still thinking it through."

"So you just assumed I'd try to talk you out of it," he grumbled. "That's pretty cold."

"That's how you are toward your dad," she said. "Cold. You get what you need out of him and then you don't make any effort to give him anything in return. You know, he's done a lot for us and I, for one, am pretty grateful."

"You think I'm not grateful?" Leonard said.

"You sure don't act like it." Valerie pulled away from Allison and fussed, so Allison turned on her back to sit the baby up on her chest and burp her.

"I don't feel the need to grovel at his feet just because he lets us stay here for free," Leonard said.

Allison scoffed. "That's all you think I'm talking about? Us not having to pay rent?"

"Well, and babysitting and stuff." He rolled on his back as well, giving up on falling back to sleep any time soon.

"Leonard," she said in an even, controlled tone. "I never had a father in my life. Don't take him for granted."

"So what, me treating him better is supposed to make up for that?" he said.

"No, idiot," she said. "Your dad is the closest I ever had to having a dad in my life and I want us to treat him like we care about him as much as he cares about us." She lowered the baby to the mattress on her other side and rolled to face away from him. "So quit being a fuckwad."

"Maybe if you quit fucking calling me names," he grumbled, and turned to face away from her. He buried the side of his face in the pillow as it had been before and closed his eyes. But he was wide awake now and his mind wouldn't release Allison's words now that they had been expressed. It definitely wasn't true that all the opposition between him and his father was all on his head, he knew that much. But there was an incompatibility between them that wasn't either of their faults and maybe it would be better to try to meet Lawrence somewhere in the middle. If nothing else, for Allison's and Valerie's sakes.

It wasn't going to be easy to act on it, though.

* * *

"No— Dad," Leonard said. Lawrence was holding Valerie in his lap, and was holding a small piece of challah that he had dipped in honey to her lips. "The baby's too little to have honey."

"There's not very much," Lawrence said. "But since you insist." He took his other piece of bread and handed it to Valerie, who started gnawing on it.

"Excuse me if I don't want our baby having botulism." Leonard dipped an apple slice into his own portion of the honey and held it up to allow the excess to run off.

"Just bread is okay," Allison said. "Don't be an asshole about it, Leonard."

"Sure, that's me, just being an asshole," he said. "It has nothing to do with the baby at all."

Allison lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Look, he said he wasn't going to do it, so drop it."

"Please," Lawrence said. "Now is not the time."

Leonard looked at his father for just a moment, then returned his attention to his dish of apple slices. "Okay, sure."

Allison frowned and shook head at him slightly. He gazed at her, irritated, but didn't speak. His father obviously wanted things to be a certain way and if he engaged with Allison any more it would just make things worse. Instead he adjusted his glasses and looked away, his mouth firm at the corners.

"Okay, Val," Lawrence said. The baby was burbling and reaching out for the loaf of bread, bouncing up out of his lap. "Leonard, could you pass the bread, please."

Leonard diverted his attention from Allison enough to nudge the loaf back toward his father. "Thank you," Lawrence said, taking a piece and handing it to Valerie. "I think the timer is about to go off for the oven. Do you want to go take a look, Leonard?"

_Not really_, he wanted to say, but he nodded and got up. If the two of them were Lawrence's children, Leonard thought, he sure seemed to favor Allison. They were speaking in low tones now, Leonard noticed, but he opened the oven and checked the fish and found that it was ready. He lifted the dish out of the oven, plunking it on the counter and letting the oven door close with a bang. Putting the fish on a serving platter, along with the vegetables, took only a few moments, and he carried the dishes to the table.

Allison watched Leonard as he approached, then cleared her throat. "Lawrence said we should take a moment to reflect," she said, glancing over at him, "and then we can eat."

Leonard set the platter down. "Sounds good to me." He sat down and looked at his dad, who gave a little nod and then cast his eyes downward, looking thoughtful. Leonard glanced over at Allison, who was doing similarly, and he averted his gaze from them, off to the side. The baby bounced herself in her grandfather's lap, interrupting herself with little grunts each time she landed. Otherwise it was quiet, and Leonard tried to direct his thoughts elsewhere.

Reflection—spending time considering his acts of the previous year and whether they were beneficial to others. The previous year had certainly been interesting, that he could say. He didn't think he'd ever been so busy in his life, what with keeping up on his studies and raising a baby. Every day, near bedtime, he held her and read her a little story, and marveled at how different things would be without her in their lives. Thankfully Allison had this year to be at home, though he knew things would immediately intensify once she headed back out to her ship. And soon enough he'd be graduating and, hopefully, being accepted into grad school. Who knew where they'd end up when that happened, and how things would be?

In the meantime, as far as considering his deeds went, he thought he was doing pretty well. Allison thought he should treat his father better, he knew that, but he didn't see anything wrong with how he behaved. Sure, he could spend more time with his dad, just to socialize and keep him up on his life. Same with Allison, really. He just got so tied up sometimes in his studies as graduation neared. In fact—

"All right," Lawrence said, drawing Leonard out of his reverie. "I don't want to torture you two any longer. This smells really good."

Allison chuckled lightly and reached for the platter. "Do you want me to serve you up?" she asked Lawrence, knowing he'd have trouble with a serving platter and spoon while holding a baby in his lap.

"Please," he said, and she stood to make that easier on herself. "I was thinking, while we were having our moment there, that I should make some more effort to come home in the evenings to relieve you, Allison. I've sort of gotten back in the habit of staying late because of a contract, but I'm not really needed as much as I've been telling myself."

Allison smiled at him as she moved to sit back down. "That'll be nice. I don't get as much time to exercise as I would like, so I'll be glad to have some more free time."

"Free time," Leonard said with a rueful laugh. "I miss free time. I thought I was busy in high school."

"Well, you've said working on coding tends to just expand into all the time available," Allison said. "Maybe if you put stricter limits on what time you're going to allot for it that'll be less of a problem."

"If it were only that simple," he said. "No, I have certain goals to meet and that means working until the problems are solved."

"Whatever it takes, huh?" Lawrence said. "That's not always the best way to tackle things, honestly."

"It is for this situation," Leonard said. "But I do want to try to get more of these things done while I'm at the school so I can concentrate on y'all in the evenings. If possible."

"Seems like we were all thinking about family," Allison mused. She paused, licking her lips.

"Well, it's the spirit of the holiday, really," Lawrence said.

"Yeah," she said, still quiet. Leonard looked at her with mild curiosity, but she didn't meet his gaze. Just then, Valerie squealed and attempted to pull Lawrence's plate down into his lap. Allison laughed and arose. "I'll take her now," she said.

Lawrence passed her off and smiled. "She is a handful, for sure," he said.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Allison replied, holding Valerie up to smile at her. Valerie grinned and bounced and smacked her mother in the face with both hands. Allison started, pulling her head back and widening her eyes, but couldn't help laughing. "Should be careful what I ask for," she said, poking the baby in the nose.

"She can't be any more of a handful than you were," Leonard teased.

"Probably not." Allison put the baby down in her lap. "It's funny…"

They waited for her to continue after she trailed off, but when she didn't, Lawrence spoke up. "What's funny?"

"All this talk about family." She sucked in a corner of her lip before continuing, feeding the baby a bite of the fish. "I was just thinking, while we were reflecting…thinking about my mom. She doesn't know about Valerie."

"Well, you don't talk to her," Leonard replied.

"Maybe I should," she said. She glanced over at Lawrence. "I don't know."

"Each situation is unique," Lawrence replied. "Sometimes things are for the best when they turn out that way."

"No way to know unless I try," Allison said. "Right? I mean, maybe reconciling is possible."

Lawrence frowned at her, but didn't speak. Leonard looked between them. Something was weird about this exchange. Allison was looking back at Lawrence unflinchingly, almost pointedly. "All right, what am I missing?" Leonard said.

"Allison thinks I should call my mother," Lawrence said.

"What?" Leonard nearly laughed. "Allison, what? You're trying to give my dad advice?"

Her eyes snapped over to him and she scowled. "You butt the hell out if you're going to be like that about it."

"I didn't mean it that way," Leonard said. "I just mean Dad hasn't talked to her since I was a baby."

"Exactly," Allison said. Valerie looked between them and made a few protesting noises, leading to Allison taking her little hand.

"As I said, sometimes those things are for the best. That's the way I believe it is in my situation and in yours." Lawrence pushed his plate back slightly. "You two are planning to do the dishes, correct?"

"I'm considering it, that's all," Allison said. "I think you should too."

"Neglect is grounds for estrangement as much as abuse," Lawrence said. "And this topic is closed." He stood and walked away, heading toward the back door.

"Ookay," Leonard said. "I don't know what just happened but I think I'm going to do what Dad said."

"I'm going to feed the baby," Allison replied, reaching for her fork and flaking some of her portion of the fish.

Leonard frowned. "You're really thinking of going to see her, or are you just trying to make a point?"

"A little of both," she said. "Please leave me alone for a while?"

"…Yeah." He stood and looked at her for a moment before walking away.


	25. Chapter 25

"Look at her," Leonard said. "Just watch."

Allison laughed. "I saw it, Leonard. She just stepped from the coffee table to the couch."

"No, I saw her take two steps," he said.

"She's barely started walking." Allison went over to pick Valerie up and kissed her on the cheek before setting her back next to the coffee table. Valerie gripped the edge of the table and bounced, bending her knees deep and squealing. Leonard grinned and tried to entice her with the toy he was holding. She'd become a beautiful child in the year she'd been alive, Leonard thought. The black hair she'd been born with had fallen and come in a strawberry blond, and she'd inherited his brilliant green eyes. It was funny—he understood the rules of genetics, but those green eyes almost seemed like a dominant trait. He leaned in to wiggle the little panda closer to her face before backing away again, and she grunted a bit before releasing the coffee table with one hand and putting a foot out as if to test the waters.

"Come on," he urged. "You can do it."

Valerie went for it, stutter-stepping forward, losing her balance, and landing on her rear. Her face crumpled, and she started to cry, but she also immediately turned onto her knees to reach for the table and stand again.

"She doesn't quit, does she?" Allison said. "Come on, sunshine."

"She's a Church, of course she doesn't quit." Valerie was sniffling back her tears now, but had turned back toward her father. "Want the panda?" he said. "You want it, don't you." He held it out again.

This time, when she toddled forward, she put her weight forward, falling against Leonard's knees and reaching for the panda.

"You did it!" Allison laughed and clapped. "Look at that!"

"She just wanted to show off for you since you're leaving," Leonard said, a wistful smile on his face, releasing the panda and letting Valerie have it. "Next she'll be getting up and dancing."

Allison laughed. "She'd better be good."

"She's been taking lessons. I didn't want to tell you, it was meant to be a surprise." Valerie punctuated his words by releasing the bear and beating the palm of her hand against Leonard's leg, grinning at her laughing parents. He turned her around and tossed the bear to Allison. "Let's try again."

This time Valerie seemed braver, having realized she could cheat by falling against the person she was heading for once she started to lose her balance, and when she pulled the same move Allison caught her, lifting her and grinning at her. "You know what?" She brought the baby in toward her and kissed her nose. "I've decided."

"Decided?" Leonard asked.

"Yeah. I'm going to head out to Mom's with the baby. She's a year old now. Mom ought to have a chance to see her."

"You're deciding this _now_?" he said. "You're leaving tomorrow."

She stood. "Well, are you coming with us or what?"

"Now. You're deciding now and you're going now." He sighed, setting the panda on the coffee table. "You don't have your license. You're counting on me taking you."

"Right, so come on." She picked Valerie up and stood. "I'm going to wash her face and then I'll be ready."

"Yeah, sure, of course." It was her right to do this, after all. He stood up and went to gather his keys.

The drive to the house Allison had grown up in wasn't long. There was no guarantee, though, that her mother was still living there. Allison nudged his arm. "Stay here with the baby and I'll go knock," she said.

"Yeah," he replied. It was cold, being January, and Allison made sure her coat was bundled up tight before heading outside. She knocked once she'd reached the porch, and after the second knock someone came to the door. The man was tall, heavyset, and unwashed. At the sight of him Allison felt sick. She recognized him. It was someone she'd expected never to see again. She couldn't remember his name, but she knew who he was.

It was the man who had abused her.

The room inside smelled of marijuana smoke. A wave of it reached out and smacked her in the face. God, this…more than the sight of the man before her, it was this scent that sent her into a state of total mind-searing anxiety, a desire to panic and run away.

But she didn't. As much as she suddenly wished not to be here, she had a goal. She felt light-headed, sort of unreal, but she'd always attributed that to the effects of the pot. "Hey," she said, trying for casual. "I'm here to see Alina. Is she around?"

"She's asleep," the man said. He looked at her impassively, then shoved the screen door open, apparently indicating that Allison should follow him in. She hesitated for a moment, then followed.

He headed toward the back of the house. It was all familiar to Allison, of course. The bedroom her mother slept in was an addition that had been slapped onto the house at some point before she'd come to live there, attached improbably to the kitchen. The man nudged a chair aside with his foot. "She'll be up soon," he said. He always sounded flat, like there was no need for inflections or even much volume when he spoke. "She expecting you?"

"No," Allison said.

"No?" He looked at her, watching her impassively. She felt her skin crawl. "Who are you?"

Just as she'd been beginning to think—he hadn't recognized her at all. "That's not important."

His eyes narrowed slightly, once again watching her for a few moments. "Forget it," he grunted. "Get out."

"What?" She lifted her head defiantly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I said you're going." He stepped closer, apparently expecting to intimidate her into leaving.

"I'm not moving," she said, glowering up at him. "I'm her kid, and I'm going to stay. right. here. until she wakes up."

"Get the fuck out," he said, shoving her backward.

Taken by surprise, she stumbled back. "You motherfucker," she growled.

"You don't have any reason to be here," he said, suddenly showing more emotion than he'd displayed up to this point. "You treat your mother like garbage."

She curled her lip. "I did what I had to," she said. "I couldn't stick around here with _you _here."

"You were such a little whore," he said.

Allison sneered, aghast. "I was twelve, you piece of shit!" She shoved past him. "Forget it, I'm going to get her up."

He grabbed her upper arm. "Leave her alone, you fucking cunt."

Allison whirled and punched at him instinctively, catching him in the solar plexus. He staggered a bit before slamming the heel of his other hand toward her shoulder, but she had anticipated the move and had dropped back to avoid it. He grazed her cheek as she arched her back to flow around the hit, driving a right hook around into his jaw. He grabbed her hair, a tight fistful at the crown of her head. She jerked and grimaced, tears springing to her eyes, beyond uncomfortable with their proximity. She lashed out with her knee and caught his leg, causing him to drive his hip against the table. He grunted as he faltered backwards. Allison tried for a jab to the throat to end the fight, but he saw her move coming and intercepted her with an elbow to the jaw. It hit in just the right spot; Allison blacked out for half a second, collapsing sideways against the table.

"Stop!" Allison looked up. Alina stood in the doorway to her bedroom. She appeared hungover, wrapping a threadbare robe around her slight frame and squinting. "Rodger, leave her alone," she said in a low tone.

Rodger turned to look at Allison. Then he spit in her direction and walked past Alina into the bedroom.

Allison straightened herself up with some effort, holding herself haughty. "He practically admitted it," Allison said sharply. "When you were asleep."

Alina stood insensible, staring at Allison like she was some alien creature.

Allison shook her head, sighing, slouching a bit. "Mom, I didn't come for this. I haven't spoken to you in years, I… I wanted to tell you about what's happened. I wanted things to be better. I should have controlled my temper."

Alina closed her eyes, rubbing her face with one hand. "You were right to be angry. I know it's true."

Allison's hand slammed into the table. "Then kick him out. Get him the fuck out of your house."

"I don't know how." Alina looked defeated, her shoulders sagging. "It's more complicated than that."

Allison remained rooted to the spot where she stood, trembling. It seemed all they'd done her whole life was fight. They'd hurt each other over and over, and she'd done the only thing she could do as a young person to deal with it—leave. And that seemed to be the only solution now. "I came here to reconcile with you," she said in a low voice. "But that's not going to happen. Not now, not ever."

Alina reached her hand out. "Allison—"

"No," Allison said sharply, and turned to go. "I have other things to think about now. Goodbye."

Alina didn't try to stop her again.

When the door opened, Leonard turned the radio down. He expected Allison to gesture for him to bring Valerie in, but instead she came out, head down and arms crossed. He frowned. He didn't know that he'd ever seen her using this body language. He waited until she had taken her seat next to him again and closed the door before he spoke. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said. Her voice was strained and small. She covered her face with her hands.

He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. Was she going to cry? He didn't know when he'd ever seen her look this defeated. And he certainly had never seen her work this hard to fight back her emotions. "Allison?"

She whimpered—actually whimpered. "Don't," she said, running her hands down to her throat. "I can't. Just don't."

He removed his hand, slowly. "Okay. Okay, just…please tell me if you're all right."

"I brought my daughter here," she said. Her voice was thin and high—she sounded horrified. "_I brought my daughter here._"

"Okay," Leonard said, not fully understanding but able to take meaning from that. "Let's get out of here then." He pulled the car away from the curb and started for home.

The ride home was silent, and Allison was distant for the rest of the day and through the evening. Somehow Leonard knew not to ask. He'd know when she was ready to talk. At least he hoped so. Normally when they went to bed they would talk and banter with each other as they prepared for sleep but even then she seemed drawn and stayed quiet.

The next morning went as planned—Lawrence stayed home from the office that day so the two of them could leave the baby with him, and Leonard and Allison carried her bags to the car before pulling away, heading for the airport. After she buckled herself in she drew one of her knees up to her chest, leaning her cheek against it and staring out the window. She shifted now and then, and eventually she sat up normally, facing forward. She seemed to be calming. But they were most of the way there before Leonard decided to broach the topic. "What happened yesterday, baby?"

Allison reached up to set a hand above her forehead, as though she had to squeeze to keep the pressure down in her skull. "I don't know why I didn't see how stupid that was in the first place," she said.

"I know you two don't get along," he said.

"No, Leonard. Don't you remember what I told you? What happened to me?"

He was silent for a moment. "Yeah. I remember."

"She's an enabler and a protector," she said, full of vitriol. "I'm never going to see her again."

"She knew about it?" He glanced over at her.

"She knew." Allison made a strange, cackling sound. "Oh…God."

"It's okay if you want to cry about it, Allison," he said. "I don't think you know this but sometimes people cry."

Instead of crying she forced out a laugh. "I didn't even let on that Valerie exists. It's better that way."

"Yeah, I think so." He stole another look at her, brows drawn together. "Seriously, you don't have to hold this in. You're…acting really weird."

"I'm not going to cry. I'm _not._" She flattened her palms against the dash. "Leonard, you never should have let me go back there."

"Me?" he asked, incredulous. "Allison, you'd been thinking about that for four months and decided in the span of two minutes. How was I going to stop you? And you seriously think you would have listened to me?"

She let out another high, hopeless chuckle. "No. Definitely not."

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying." He pulled into the airport parking as Allison fell back into silence. He didn't like her being this quiet. It was too unusual. "Allison, you want to grab some coffee before you have to go through security?" he asked as he pulled the car into a space.

"No," she said. "Let's just get me checked in."

"If that's what you want." He got out after killing the engine and helped her get her bags to a shuttle and to the check-in counter. After that was accomplished they walked slowly back to the entrance of the security line. She seemed better now, walking more purposefully, and he took her hand. "Ready for this?"

"Oh, I'm ready," she said. "Believe me, this year has been nice, but I'm really looking forward to coming back to work."

"Yeah," he said. "Of course you are."

"_Yes_, so don't sound like that about it." They'd reached the spot they normally stood in to part, so Allison turned toward him. "You've got that note about her routine. You'll be fine."

He hadn't even been thinking about that. "Allison…" He turned toward her as well, taking both her hands in his and gathering them to his chest. It was that impulsiveness of hers that had once again gotten her into trouble and it nagged him more than ever now. "I can't stand saying goodbye to you," he said. "Promise me you'll be careful."

Her forehead creased and she looked down. "I'll do what I can."

"Promise me you'll be careful," he repeated insistently.

Her expression changed, and she looked so vehement for a moment that he nearly stepped back. She wrenched her hands out of his grasp. "I'll do what I was trained to do!" she snapped. She turned, slinging her carry-on bag higher on her shoulder, and stepped through the entrance of security.

"Allison!" he called to her. "Allison, wait!"

She didn't turn. She didn't look at him for a moment. She went through the checkpoint and she headed into the terminal without a backward glance.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Erase My Scars - Evans Blue  
_Allison realizes she needs to release any chance of reconciling with her mother_

Long Time Coming - Maria Mena  
_Allison's reunion with her mother is tough and leaves her distressed, but she makes the hard decision_


	26. Chapter 26

Leonard slammed the back door of the car after settling the last box next to Valerie's car seat, and looked at it for a moment before turning. "All right, Dad, thanks for everything," he said.

"You're welcome," Lawrence said, then looked at the child he was holding. "We took a vote and Val is staying," he added, taking her hand in one of his and wiggling it. Valerie giggled and he bounced her on his hip.

Leonard couldn't help smiling. "You wound me, Val," he said, holding a hand over his heart and staggering slightly. Valerie was still a bit too young to understand what was going on but she laughed at her father's antics anyway.

This had been a busy month. Leonard's graduation had come and gone. Allison had been around on leave for a week, and once she went back to her post it was time for him to do the packing. They didn't have that much that was strictly theirs, and it wasn't worth it to rent a truck to bring the crib and bed, so in the end he and his father just packed boxes of things into the car. It was the beginning of new things, a new phase in life, and Leonard was anticipating it. It wasn't that he disliked his father, but he had lived here long enough.

Lawrence sighed, still smiling, and held Valerie out toward Leonard. "All right, I know it's time," he said.

Leonard accepted her into his arms. "I'll call when we get there," he said.

"I'd hope so." Lawrence followed as Leonard walked around the car so he could put Valerie in her seat, and once that was accomplished Leonard turned back around. Lawrence tilted his head slightly. "All right, so…"

"Yeah, that's it," Leonard said. The two of them stood awkwardly for a moment, and Leonard realized his father was contemplating giving him a hug. He steeled himself for it; this would be strange. The last time he remembered hugging his father was… Actually, he had no idea. Sometime when he was small. But Lawrence gave up on the thought without expressing it, stepping aside.

"Goodbye then," Lawrence said.

"Bye," Leonard said, then opened his door to climb in the car and settle into the seat. Lawrence stepped into the lawn and Leonard pulled the car back to the end of the drive. Lawrence waved.

And that was it. Moments later, the house was out of sight and Leonard drove down the familiar streets, knowing that this would be the last time he'd see them in a while. That felt really strange. He'd lived here since he was fourteen—nearly a decade. Valerie was quiet, so Leonard was alone with his thoughts. He wished that he'd been able to share this trip with Allison as well. Three days in the car was going to be a long time with a toddler and he would have liked to have her to talk to at least. It wasn't that he was nervous—not exactly—but it would have been nice to share this experience with her. So many moments it would have been nice to share with her since she had gone back to her post. Valerie was growing and changing every day and acquiring new skills and it was damn bittersweet to have to tell Allison about them in letters or video calls rather than have her there to experience them in the same way he did. Valerie had taken a few early steps before Allison returned to her post, but now she was steadily walking, even making her way up the stairs when she was allowed to try, a step at a time. She was beginning to speak, a few words anyway. All things Allison got to see for herself when she was on leave, but it simply wasn't the same. Little things too, like the clumsy way Valerie fed herself with a spoon, or the way—

"Da!"

Leonard tilted the rearview mirror. Barely an hour into their trip and it had already started. "What is it, sunshine?" he asked, using Allison's nickname for her.

Valerie started slamming the soles of her shoes into the seat. "Da da da da!"

He sighed with exasperation. "Dada can't do anything for you. Stop it." Nevertheless, he started looking for a place to stop. The best plan, he thought, was to stop whenever she got restless and give her a chance to run around, or to have a snack. Valerie continued to cry out and slam her feet into his seat, but he ignored it until he managed to find a rest area to pull into. By the time he got parked there he was well ready for her behavior to stop. "Okay, _okay_," he said, getting out and opening her door. "Let's run around here for a while, but then we have to keep going, all right, darlin'?"

Valerie grinned and thrust a hand up in the air. "No!"

He knew this was going to get tiring over the course of the trip but he couldn't help laughing at that with a shake of his head. "Well, it's the way it's going to be." As if it did any good to reason with a toddler.

That was not the way it was to be, as it turned out. Stopping every time she got restless became an untenable plan, and eventually he had to drive along with her wailing in the backseat, crying herself to sleep and napping for long stretches. He was grateful for the respite, and nearly ten hours after they'd started off he was pulling into the parking of the hotel that he'd reserved with the naïve thought that they'd reach it in seven. The act of slowing to exit the highway and navigate the quieter streets caused Valerie to stir, and by the time he got the car parked she was crying in protest at finding herself still imprisoned in her car seat.

"All right, Val, _okay_—we're almost there," he said, but his impatient tone didn't help things and she wailed with a longer cry. "Goddammit," he muttered. "I should have just flown. Sold all our things, and bought new stuff in San Diego." He parked and got out, opening her door to extract her from the damned seat. She sniffled and hiccupped and burrowed her cheek against his shoulder.

He sighed. Okay, just two more days of this. He could do it. He could handle it. He could—

Yeah, he was going to go crazy.

Every moment after that increased his impatience. He just wanted to tuck Valerie into bed and go to sleep. He carried her on one arm, against his hip, and dragged the suitcase on its wheels, checking in at the desk in the lobby and then taking the key card to take it to their room.

"All right, girly," he said, setting her down so he could open the door. Almost immediately she turned to dart off down the hallway. He caught her by the back of her collar, holding the door open with his foot.

He'd certainly learned to multitask in the time she'd been alive.

"Stop it, stop it," he said as she tugged, trying to run off. "_Stop_, goddammit." He abandoned the handle of the suitcase so he could catch her around the middle with his other arm. He dropped his leg in the process and the door closed. "Fuckin—" He held her up against him with his arm around her waist, and she kicked and flailed until she was horizontal against his side, shrieking. "You're going to kill me," he said. "Straight up dead, and then how are you going to get to San Diego?" He opened the door again and somehow he managed to carry her and drag the suitcase in, backing into the room. He released her as soon as the door shut and she immediately ran for one of the beds, climbed onto it with heroic effort, and started crawling around on it—she hadn't yet learned to jump, something he was grateful for at this moment.

He could handle it, he told himself. One moment at a time. He was her primary caregiver, he knew how to deal with her when she was impatient and when she was upset and when she needed to blow off steam. These were things he dealt with every day. "Come on, you," he said, "you need a bath." He was exhausted but he was _not_ going to bed until he'd showered and gotten her bathed.

It didn't dawn on him, as he dealt with her apparent hyperactivity through the process of cleaning them up and getting dressed for bed and trying to get her to lie down in the bed next to him, why she was acting this way. When it did, when the thought struck that she'd already slept at least four hours in the car, if not longer, a feeling of dread sunk down in him. He was in for hours of this, he realized. _Hours_. She wasn't going to sleep until…well, until she'd managed to tire herself out again. He hauled himself into a sitting position and watched her. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet and Leonard frowned. "You better not work out how to jump on this bed," he said. She giggled and flopped over into his lap.

* * *

He didn't even really remember falling asleep. He just knew the alarm was going off. He tried to roll to turn it off. Valerie was lying on top of the blankets near his feet and he had to carefully extract them so he could return enough to reach the control. He felt like hell. Last time he remembered seeing on the clock was 1:30am. Would it be better to drive drowsy and let her sleep in the car, or to be forced to listen to her cry as he drove? Driving drowsy was dangerous, he knew this. Driving while she was crying, though? He wouldn't be able to take it. He'd go insane. Absolutely insane. Decision made, he leaned in to shake her awake.

The second day and second night were similar to the first, though he had made a few stops at rest areas to nap in the car. By the time they reached San Diego on the third day he felt like he could sleep for a year. There was nothing more he wanted to do once he reached the correct neighborhood than to call the apartment manager and let him know they had arrived. He'd applied to graduate school here because this was the base Allison was assigned out of—now that they were responsible for their own housing, living here was best because of the housing allowance. After acquiring the key and finding the correct unit he dragged the suitcase and in the same way he'd done each night at the hotels, with Valerie hanging off his arm. "I hope you're happy," he said to the child after he'd deposited her in the living room. The empty rooms echoed as she stomped her way through them and she laughed and ran faster.

He sighed, some of his frustration melting away. How could he remain angry with her when she was being this cute? He dropped to sit on the floor, bone-tired, and watched her. She turned and ran toward him. "Dada!" she cried, slamming into him and wrapping her arms around his neck, bouncing where she stood on his thighs.

"Yeah," he said, patting her on the back. "Dada's here, Val."


	27. Chapter 27

The months between Allison's visits seemed like a blur when Leonard thought back on them. Weekdays were all the same—he took Valerie to daycare, then went to the university to work on his thesis and do research for his department head. Weekends were mostly spent trying to do research and chase her around the house at the same time, though eventually he decided to work off some of that energy of hers by putting her in tumbling lessons every Saturday. Raising her was an important job, of course, and she did something every day to make him smile, but it was also a burden and it was hard work. So Allison's visits were the highlight of his life whenever they took place.

The best times were the visits she made every January, timing them to coincide with Valerie's birthday. She couldn't stay quite long enough for Leonard's birthday at the end of the month, but that was okay with him. Birthdays were more special to children anyway. This was the one day of the year when Leonard went all out, buying a gourmet cake and cooking a special meal, spending the time before dinner was served working cooperatively with Allison in the kitchen. He enjoyed her visits, every moment of them, even when they got into arguments.

He'd never minded their arguments. It was just a part of what made them them.

Right now Allison was playing with Valerie on the floor, and Leonard was topping the cake with a number three candle, idly waiting for dinner to finish cooking. "You want to do the cake now?" he asked.

"Oh, heck," she said, "why not?"

He grinned and came over to take her hand and help her up. "I knew you'd say that," he said.

"Cake cake!" Valerie called out, running to the table and pulling on one of the chairs.

"There's no point in being boring," Allison laughed. "It's supposed to be a fun day, right?"

"It is a fun day," he said. "You're here." He bent his head and pulled her close, kissing her in the hollow below her ear. "Later we'll have more fun," he added lowly.

"Subtle," she teased. She kissed him in return, tilting her head to nuzzle against him. "Didn't you say you had a sitter for tomorrow?"

"Yeah." He closed his eyes and kissed her mouth, a kiss which she enthusiastically returned.

Valerie giggled, abandoning the chair and trying to shove in between them. "Unh unh unh," she grunted, jumping, before she wedged her hands between them. "Up!" Leonard let the kiss break and grabbed Valerie by the arm to lift her up in between them. She laughed as she walked herself up their bodies, and the two of them resumed their embrace with her nestled in between them, laughing.

"You'd think she likes seeing us happy," Leonard said with a smile.

"I like her seeing us happy," Allison said.

"Happy," Valerie repeated. "Cake."

"Yup," Allison said. "Let's get some cake." They parted, carefully letting Valerie down, and Leonard went to light the candle. After he set the cake on the table, the two of them sang the birthday song to Valerie while she grinned at them in turn and raised a finger to swipe it through the frosting. They laughed.

"Now watch," Allison said, and bent in to show Valerie how to blow the candle out. She blew on it gently, just enough to cause the flame to bend to the side.

Valerie giggled. "Funny goose," she said.

Allison grinned. "I'm a funny goose?" she said. "You're a goose."

Valerie pointed with a finger. "Mommy a goose," she replied.

Allison bent again. "Try this, goosie," she said, blowing on the flame again. Valerie put her lips together and blew, and managed to blow the candle out.

"She's so clever," Allison said admiringly.

"That shouldn't be news," Leonard said. "Wait until you see her at tumbling on Saturday."

"I can't wait," Allison said, cutting a piece of cake to give to Valerie, who had been babbling away while they talked. "I want to know all about what's going on with both of you."

"It's not like there's anything exciting," he said with a shrug. "I study all week, teach a class; pick her up and take her home. Then she has tumbling Saturday and we usually have a study session—her best friend's mother is in the same department as me so we let them play."

"She has a best friend? That's cute," Allison said. "So what, this friend of yours is taking the same classes as you?"

"You don't really take classes when you're working on your master's degree," he said. "But actually, she's an undergrad. I'm basically the one she goes to when she needs some help on certain things."

"Oh. Really." Allison swirled some of the frosting on her plate. "Well, I'm glad it worked out so nicely."

"It did," he said. "She's the sitter, actually, so you'll meet her tomorrow."

"I'd like that." She paused to help Valerie get a bite of cake on her fork before continuing. "So that's all that goes on?"

"It really is," he said. "I'm sure things are a lot more exciting for you."

She rolled her eyes. "You'd be surprised. Not much goes on where I'm stationed. The most exciting thing that happened recently was when we had inspection and someone tried to pull a loose thread off my shirt and pulled the button off."

Leonard laughed. "What did you do?"

"I sewed that button on pretty damn quick, I can tell you that."

"Why didn't you make them do it?" he asked.

"Are you kidding? It would have been my ass on the line, not his." Allison got another bite of cake on her fork and held it. "I got him back on my own time, though."

"I bet you did," Leonard said. "What'd you do?"

"Put pain reliever cream in his boots," she said, grinning. "You know, that stuff that goes hot and cold?"

"That's evil," Leonard laughed. "He didn't even mean to pull your button off."

"He's an ass though. It all evens out. Besides, it's a bonding experience. Everyone gets pranked at least once."

"How is that a bonding experience?" he said. "You'd think it would make it so no one trusts anyone else."

"That's not the way it is," Allison said. "One of my best friends is the first person who pranked me after Basic." She grinned. "I hate that motherfucker."

"Okay, I guess we'll count this as something I'll never understand," he said.

"Probably," she said. She arose to check the oven. "What kind of things do you and your friends do to bond?"

"It's…you know, just the experience of dealing with academics and advisors and deadlines and stuff," Leonard said. Valerie was trying to climb down out of her chair, so he lowered her to the floor before clearing the plates and the cake from the table. "They go out for drinks sometimes. I can't go without finding a sitter, though, and my usual sitter is someone who would like to go if I go, and she needs a sitter if we both go, so…neither of us ends up going."

"So you drink with her at home," Allison filled in.

"A little. Just a bottle of beer to relax with." He shot her a little smile, noticing she was frowning slightly. "I'm responsible about it, don't worry."

"I'm not worried," she said. "It seems like you two are close."

"I guess?" He dropped the plates in the sink and got clean ones out. "We just kind of fell in together."

"That's the way it usually is," she said. She sighed. "Look, I'm trying not to be jealous. You haven't really given me a reason to be jealous."

He had a feeling she'd been feeling some tension in that regard as they spoke. "No, I haven't. You get to meet her tomorrow, so you'll see. There's nothing to worry about."

"Yeah. I know." She scooped up the casserole with a spoon and started putting portions on their plates. "Do you think Valerie will eat any of this or did we spoil her?"

"We spoiled her," he said. He kissed Allison on the cheek. "But it's okay."

"Okay." She offered him a little smile and returned the kiss.

* * *

"I think she's asleep," Leonard said, giving Allison a little shake.

"Mm?" She opened her eyes. "I'm not asleep."

He chuckled. "I mean Valerie. She hasn't gotten back up in a while. I think she finally went to sleep."

She let out a little grunt as she stretched in place. "Just you and me now, then."

"That's the math," he said. He sat down on the bed and set a hand on her leg, smoothing it down her knee.

She smirked at the touch of his hand and scooted in closer. "Don't forget what you promised," she said.

"I remember," he said, leaning in to kiss her.

She raised an eyebrow and put her finger to his lips to keep him from leaning in any closer. "No cheating, then. I want rough, not sweet."

"What, I'm not allowed to kiss you?" he said.

"After all the letters we exchanged about this and you still don't understand what I want?" She slipped alongside him to stand. "Where's the stuff I ordered?"

"I put it in the bottom drawer of the dresser." He turned, watching her head over there. "You really expect us to use all of this?"

"I bought it all, didn't I?" she said. "I want to hit everything at least once while I'm here." She rifled through the things and emerged with a pair of nipple clamps and a riding crop. She handed him the crop. "Remember what I talked about? You don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with."

He accepted it. "Yeah, I remember."

"All right, then. We need to pick a safe word. If you hear me say it you'll know I want to stop."

"I said I remember how it works," he said. "What word do you want to use?"

"We just have to pick something weird we wouldn't say usually. How about…chandelier?"

"Okay," he said with a shrug.

"All right." She smirked at him. "You make this good and I'll give you head later."

He approached her, a sly smile turning up the corners of his mouth, and caught her around the middle with one arm. He bent his head to bite at her jaw—harder, harder, he reminded himself. Really bite. She groaned in response and ground her hips against his. So far, easy enough, he thought. This was a reversal of their usual roles when they were intimate; normally she took charge, and he never had a problem with her bending his will to follow her whims. He wasn't sure why she wanted him to take charge this time when she so easily took that role on herself. It was different, but, he felt, he could get out of his comfort zone.

He set the crop on the bed, then reached to undress her. She rocked her body against his as he tugged her shirt off. She always had a way of signaling her enjoyment like that. He let out a pleased little exhale and bent to run his tongue down her belly as he worked her pants down. He gave a nip at her navel before rising again.

She unfastened her bra with one hand. "Here," she said, pressing the clamps into his palm. He looked at one of them. It wasn't immediately obvious how it went on and he turned it over, then made an attempt at applying it to one of her nipples. She frowned. "No, not—" She took it from him. "It's like this," she said, but fumbled with her fingers and nearly dropped it.

"You don't know what you're doing with that any better than I do," he said, taking it back. After a moment of pinching it he was able to make the clamp come open, and he bent his head a little to look closer as he applied it. She let out a little wince and he straightened up to look at her. "No good?"

"No, it's good, it's good," she assured him. "Put the other one on."

He looked at her again for a moment before complying—he really didn't understand wanting it when it hurt, but she'd given it the okay. He was about to kiss her, but then remembered she didn't want tender kisses to be part of their play, so he bent his head to nip at her ear before trying to run her back against the mattress. She simply sidestepped him, slipping her arms out of his grasp. Her eyes were sparkling and she had a smirk on her face—this was a challenge.

"Now that's not allowed," he said, setting his hands on her shoulders and giving her a good hard shove. This seemed to genuinely take her by surprise, and she fell onto one arm, stumbling back, eyes going wider. But her look of surprise gave way to a smile and she scooted back, looking at him.

"Hands and knees," he said, figuring if they were going to be using a crop the position ought to be appropriate. "Now."

"What are you going to do if I don't?" she taunted.

This was it. He grabbed the crop and tapped her thigh with it. "Do what I said."

She looked, for a moment, like she was trying not to laugh. "You'll have to do better than that."

He brought it down more sharply. "Turn around."

She turned. "Still have to do better."

He frowned slightly, climbing on the bed behind her. "You need to listen," he said, ready in part to rise to her challenge, but also feeling vaguely uncomfortable.

She scoffed. "Make me."

That was the point, wasn't it? He undressed, keeping the crop handy, and when she dropped her hips back toward her heels, he picked it up and gave her another sharp whack on her outer thigh. She raised back up, waiting for him now, it seemed. He wasn't going to let her walk away from this without being satisfied. She wanted him to take charge and he would. He knelt behind her and used his fingers to open her up, stroking her slit until she was writhing against his hand. He got up to get a condom out and put it on, then pressed into her and drew her hips up tight against his. "Move," he said. "Keep it quick."

She started moving, a slow grind, and he brought the crop down against her thigh, remembering her descriptions of the appropriate places to hit. Meatier spots were better, she'd said—nothing bony like her hip. In reaction to the hit she sped up, but only minutely. "Do what I said," he said, bringing down the crop again, as hard as he could stand to. She released a sound—somewhere between a moan and a cry of pain—speeding her thrusts, but only by a bit. Her head was hanging between her elbows and he couldn't get a read on her expression from here. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yes," she mumbled. "I'm okay. Don't stop." She flexed her hips against him.

"Okay," he muttered, falling into her rhythm now. He could feel when she brought one of her hands to her clit, and he gave her another whack with the crop. Her moan was of a higher pitch, and she started moving faster against him. It was enjoyable, seeing her reactions, seeing how it excited her.

What he didn't find enjoyable was hitting her. After another hit he found himself hesitating, feeling completely out of the moment by the way it disturbed him to be bringing an object to inflict pain on her—the woman he loved so much.

She slowed. "Leonard?"

He didn't realize until then that he'd stopped thrusting against her. "Yeah?" he said.

"We can stop if you're not comfortable with this. I told you that," she said.

He frowned. He didn't want her to think he couldn't handle it, couldn't rise to the challenge, but well…it was looking like that was the case. "I…I guess I'd rather stop, then," he said.

She dropped her hips away to cause him to pull out, then carefully rolled over onto her back. "Come here," she said, putting her arms out for him. He crawled over her, then laid down with his head on her chest, avoiding the nipple clamps, and kissed at her neck. "'M sorry," he muttered.

"No, it's okay," she said. "The dominant person has to be just as comfortable with everything going on as the submissive person."

He sighed. "I know you wanted it but…" He smoothed his hand down her face. "I hate the idea of hurting you."

She reached to remove the nipple clamps, and she gave a small hiss with the removal of each one. "I can't make you do it if you don't want to," she said. "I like it, though. You're not hurting me, not really. You don't have to worry about that."

He rubbed his forehead. "Look, okay, I…I'll try again later."

"You don't have to," she whispered, kissing his forehead.

"I just can't pretend I'm okay with hitting you," he said. "Even if it's something you're asking for." He craned his neck up and kissed her, and she returned the kiss, smoothing a hand down the back of his head to his neck.

"You're too sweet," she muttered when the kiss broke.

"Just one of my faults, I guess," he said.

She started to speak but her COM pad went off with an alert just then, and she grabbed it where it lay on the bedside stand. It apparently wasn't a quick text, because she held there, reading the screen, for several moments.

"What is it?" Leonard asked.

"Something I was expecting," she said. She set the pad aside and looked down at him. "Don't get upset."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's a good way to make sure I don't," he said.

"Well, don't," she said. "This is good news."

"What is it?" he said.

"A couple of months ago, a recruiter for a Special Forces unit came by and…I applied. I just got the notice that I've been accepted."

"Special Forces?" he said. "That sounds pretty good. Why did you expect me to get upset?"

"It's just…I want to make sure you understand what this means. My post is going to be further away. So I won't be visiting as often. At least, not for now."

Now his brow creased. "Yeah, you're right—I don't like that. Did you know it was going to be like that when you applied?"

"Yes, of course I did," she said. "Listen, the more I advance, the better my opportunities are going to be. It'll be better in the long run."

"So how often is 'not as often'?" he asked.

"I'll be able to come home once a year," she said, stroking his hair. "The visits might be a little longer, but they'll be further apart."

He frowned. "You did this without asking me," he said.

"I don't have to 'ask' you whether I should do certain things in my career, Leonard," she said. "I weighed the different factors and decided applying was the best thing to do. And this will lead places. It's the best option right now."

"No," he said. "No, you don't have to ask." He rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb. "Listen…I just hope you thought it all out. That's all."

"I want this, Leonard," she said. "That should be good enough."

He drew a breath, glancing at her. "It is," he said. "It will be."

She smiled gently. "Good," she said. "And I think we should finish what we started. On your terms this time."

He smiled, a wry smile, and pulled himself up her body, bringing his lips to hers. "Knees hooked over my shoulders," he said. "That's a good one."

"It is," she said, draping her arms around his neck. "I like how deep you get when we do that one."

"Yeah," he muttered. "It's very nice."

And she submitted to him, the way he liked, and when they were done he watched as she tucked the crop away in the drawer. She returned to see him looking at her and she crawled up onto the bed, curling up at his side, nuzzling into his chest. He bent his head and they fell asleep, wrapped up in one other.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

With Me - Sum 41  
_Leonard clings to Allison whenever she's at home_


	28. Chapter 28

"One video call a week, Jaime," Allison said, as seriously as she could, but with an undercurrent of good humor. "One call a week and you've interrupted every week for months. Come on, this one's special."

Jaime Figueroa crowded in beside her on the bench even more. Right now ze was irritating the crap out of Allison. "You're right, I should definitely get in on this."

Allison burst into laughter. "No, come on, don't make me beat your ass."

"Hey, that sounds like fun." Ze nudged her with hir elbow.

"Not subtle," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Get out, I've only got two minutes before I'm supposed to call."

"Two minutes? That gives us plenty of time to hang out."

Allison shoved at Jaime's shoulder. "_Now_."

"Fine, fine," ze said, laughing. "Since you asked so nicely."

Jaime went out into the hall to wait hir turn and Allison initiated the contact. There were always big gaps of time between actions during these calls—one participant in the conversation would speak and then the answer wouldn't come for five seconds or so. So connecting a call took some time, but finally they appeared on the screen. The three people she was closest to in the world, the only people she would ever call family.

Leonard was still in his graduation gown, the golden yellow cowl signifying that he had received his master's degree hanging around his neck. Lawrence wore a suit and Valerie was in a dress, and she was talking, just as she always did when they were trying to have a call. It made communicating over the delays confusing, but honestly, Allison wouldn't have it any other way. "—didn't mean to," Valerie was saying. "It was boring. Besides, Dad, I couldn't even _see_ you. I was just going to stand up for a minute—"

"Be quiet," Leonard said. "You know what I told you about talking this time during the call. Look, we're connected," he said, pointing, as it appeared to Allison, straight at her.

Lawrence raised his hand in a wave. "Hello, Allison."

"Hi," she said.

"—not fair," came Valerie's voice again. "I want to talk first. You said I could talk first." Her eyes lit up, the response having just reached their ears. "Hi, Mom! I want to show you the pony I drew!"

"Remember you're going to go play in your room after you talk," Leonard said.

"Why should she have to do that?" Allison said. "Let her stay."

"I forgot the picture," Valerie was saying. "Let me go get it." She strained to get down from her father's lap and slithered to the floor, running off.

"It'll just be a minu—" He shook his head when her response came. "She has to do that because she's always interrupting," he said. "I want to be able to have an actual conversation this time."

"What do you mean, 'actual conversation'? She's your daughter, not some kind of nuisance."

As it always happened, their words were overlapping as they responded to each other's statements with the delay. "Dad took some video footage when— She's not a nuisance, I'd just like not to be interrupted for once. Dad took some video footage of when I crossed the stage and got my diploma."

Valerie came pounding back into the room and held up a piece of paper, unfortunately far too close for it to be very clear. "He's eating some grass," she said.

"I'd like to see it," Allison said of the recording. "That looks nice, sunshine."

"—and he lives in a house, but he doesn't have hands to cook with— Mommy, you're seeing it now."

Allison couldn't help laughing to herself. These calls were so awkward with a child involved. "I was talking about something else, Val."

The call continued similarly—talk, deal with an interruption, clarify, get interrupted again—and, watching Valerie's antics, Allison found it nothing but sweet. She wouldn't get to hold the girl in her arms again until October—and it would be a year after that before she could return again. These calls were what she had to cling to until then, and she sighed with exasperation when Leonard followed through on ushering her away.

"I asked you not to do that," Allison said.

"I'll bring her back later," Leonard said. "Dad wants to visit with you for a while, and then me."

"No offense to either of you, but I've known you longer than I've known her," Allison said.

Leonard gave her a flat look. "Allison, really."

"No," Lawrence said, "I understand. You should too, Leonard. You see Valerie every day. Allison doesn't get that privilege."

"Ten minutes of adult conversation, is that so much to ask?" Leonard said. "I do have things I'd like to talk to you about without—"

"And that's a third of my time," Allison said. "Bring her back."

"I'll bring her back _later_," Leonard said. "Do you not understand that I want to talk about something specific?"

Lawrence shook his head, mumbled something to Leonard, and got up and left.

"'Later' is a pretty vague— What the hell was that?" Allison asked.

"He's going to bring Val back in five minutes," Leonard said. "Is that good enough?"

She huffed out a breath. "Fine, whatever. What is this oh-so-important topic?"

The delay in the call gave him a moment to compose himself and he was speaking more calmly when he replied. "You remember what I did when you were in the hospital with Val?"

She rolled her eyes. "What, shoved a ring in my face expecting me to fawn over your romantic timing?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Allison, I got the picture. Obviously, because I sat on this for more than four years. So I'd like to talk about it again—and actually talk about it this time instead of assuming. I hope that's good enough."

"You're saying that like you think it's stupid."

He groaned, frustrated. "Allison, I _got_ the _message_, that's how I'm saying it. I'm not pressuring you, and I'm not counting on it like I did before. I want to know that this is what you want."

She turned her head slightly and looked off past the monitor. "Why do we need a ring and a ceremony for that? We're together. We have Val. We have that connection to keep us together."

He frowned. "It's not about that," he said. "You know it isn't."

"Tell me what it's about then," she said.

"Well, part of it's legal," he said. "If something happens to you at this point I have no grounds to claim your belongings or plan your funeral. You know…right now your mother is your next of kin."

She dead-eyed the monitor. "What else?" she asked.

"Allison, this isn't a thing where you weigh the pros and cons," he said. "I want you to marry me because I love you. I just want to know you feel the same way."

She placed a hand along her jaw line and rubbed it. "I…"

He left several moments of silence even beyond the delay. "You what? Remember we only have five minutes. Less, now."

She squared her shoulders, tilting her head up slightly. "Ask me when I get home in October."

He scowled. "Goddamn it. You're telling me we're just putting this off again?"

She gave him a flat look. "You might remember me telling you that I'd tell you when to ask. What do you think that means?"

He flattened his lips into a line. "Means…you only want me to ask when you think you'll be ready to say yes?" he guessed.

She smiled faintly, but with a sardonic roll of her eyes. "Give the man a prize."

"I get it in October," he said.

She curled her lip at one corner. "I am not your 'prize'."

"Not what I meant, but whatever." He glanced over his shoulder. "They're coming back now."

"Good." She waited until she heard the footsteps for herself before calling out, "I hear my sunshine!"

Valerie came to the camera and giggled. "You can't hear sunshine, silly Mommy."

She laughed. "Funny, I always thought sunshine was pretty loud."

Thankfully, the rest of call, though confusing, was enjoyable and she even got a bit of a chance to talk to Lawrence before they had to disconnect. She exited the room and found Jaime standing by, lounging against the wall. "He shoved a ring in your face?" ze asked.

She walked by, pushing her hand in Jaime's face. "I've told you not to eavesdrop."

"You're engaged now, you know," Jaime said. "Telling the man you're going to say yes is a yes. We ought to have a party."

She scoffed. "An _engagement_ party? Really? You just want an excuse to break out some contraband." As if anyone ever needed one.

"Come on, Texas," ze said.

"And the state name thing? That's not cute," Allison added. "I know you're trying to start some kind of trend but it's not catching on."

"Hey, I'm from Oklahoma. You're lucky we're friends at all."

"That can be fixed," she said dryly. "Fine, we'll have a party. But it's _not_ an engagement party."

"Sure," Jaime said with a grin.

"I mean it, Jaime," Allison said. "Don't go around telling everyone. It's not like anyone cares but you."

"We'll see," ze replied with a little nudge to her shoulder before ze entered the comm room.

"Yeah," Allison said. She huffed out a sigh. "Great."

x-x-x-x

"I heard you got engaged," someone said when she sat down to the table. There were four of them now that she'd arrived and Allison glanced over at the speaker, a woman named Morimoto. She was heavyset, leaning with her elbows on the table.

Allison rolled her eyes, giving Jaime a look. "Deal me in," was her only reply.

"Engaged to be engaged," Jaime clarified. "Come on, Texas, don't be a wet blanket."

"And no one calls me Texas," she said.

"Does ze sound like ze cares?" said the other soldier, a man named Karjala. "Let hir do what ze wants. I'm here to play a fucking poker game, not plan a bridal shower."

Allison shot Jaime a smirk and scooted closer into the table. "You hear that, Jaime? No more wedding talk. Let's play poker."

"Five card stud," said Morimoto. "Deuces wild."

Allison nodded. "Deal," she instructed, and straightened her cards out on the table as they were passed to her. Jaime leaned to one side and extracted a mason jar of hir signature moonshine. "Who wants a sip?" ze said.

"Risking your life, drinking that shit," Morimoto said.

"Me," Allison said, and waited until Jaime unscrewed the top before reaching for it. She passed it on to Karjala as the first hand was played. He took a broad swallow and sent the jar on to continue its rounds among the three of them who cared to partake.

She took the first hand and collected her winnings, tipping the jar back when it was passed to her again. She wasn't sure how many proof the moonshine had but it seemed to be taking effect pretty quickly. Soon enough she had a pleasant buzz going. Jaime seemed pretty satisfied as well, leaning back in hir chair with a pleased exhale, while Karjala leaned into the table, elbows resting on the table's edge.

Allison seemed to have luck on her side tonight. She grinned after she won another of several hands and pulled her winnings over to herself from the center of the table. "I've got skills tonight," she teased them.

"Skills," Karjala retorted. "Funny how you had that wild card right when you needed it."

Allison raised an eyebrow. He'd always been an irritable drunk, Allison thought with some annoyance. "This game is half luck," she said. "And if you want to make accusations you might as well come out and say them instead of pussy-footing around."

"You cheat," he said, thumping a fist down on the table. "You do it all the time. Like you think no one notices."

"As long as we're talking about stuff everyone notices," she said. "You know why you never win? Because you're shit at card counting."

Karjala stood. "Say it to my face, bitch," he growled. "Call me a cheater again."

She stood as well, turning in place to face him, shoulders square. He didn't flinch, stepping in closer to look in her eyes, engaging in a classic standoff.

"Ohh, fuck," Morimoto said, scooting her chair back.

Jaime let out a hoot. "Allison's going to fuck you up, asshole," ze said.

"You fucking kidding me?" Morimoto said. "Make her pay, Karjala. Bitch slap her into next week."

That was the way of things, wasn't it? Whenever she was ready to get into a fight, the bystanders seemed more than prepared to cheer them on, glorying in the violence. Karjala tilted his head in slightly to signal his aggression to her, his expression hardening even more. She scowled. She hadn't gotten into a petty fistfight since school. Back then, she had a reputation as a fighter, as a troublemaker, and she'd had more of a temper. That was who had cheered her on in the past, and who she'd been fighting, too—schoolchildren. Immature assholes.

Just like Karjala was being.

Her record was good in the service, both at her previous post and here in the Special Forces. She had an image to uphold if she wanted to advance and she didn't have the temper she had once had. The longer she considered doing this the more she was realizing how pointless it was. She dead-eyed Karjala and stepped back. "Not worth it," she said.

"Fuck you, then," Karjala said, putting his middle finger up practically in her face.

"Leave me alone, cockbite," Allison said. She stalked off, leaving the room.

Moments later, Jaime joined her, jogging to catch up. "I thought you were going to show him what's what."

"It was pointless," she replied, not looking at hir. "All it would have been was a strike on my record."

"You have more self-control than I do," Jaime said. "I don't know how you do that."

A laugh bubbled its way out from somewhere deep in her core and she shook her head. "I don't think I've ever had anyone accuse me of being level-headed before."

"You are, though," Jaime said. "It's not like that's the first time you've done something like that."

Allison didn't answer for a bit, thinking back to puzzle out what Jaime might be talking about. "That's how you see me?" she finally said.

"I do," Jaime said. "It looked like you were going to flip for a minute there, though."

They reached her quarters and she faced Jaime. "Maybe I was," she said.

"Well, you made the right call," Jaime said. "Even if I was egging you on."

"Yup, you're a real troublemaker," Allison teased. "Good thing I don't give in to peer pressure, Okie."

Jaime laughed. "All right, well, I better go back for that bottle," ze said. "Have a good night."

Allison nodded with a smile and entered her room. She closed the door and rested with her back against it for a few moments, reaching up to rub her face. She might have a new reputation, but it was hard won. But it was good, she thought. Very good.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Stay Stay Stay - Taylor Swift  
_Eventually Allison decides it's time and lets Leonard know he should ask her to marry him again_

Lover Of The Light - Mumford &amp; Sons  
_After saying no the first time, Allison decides to marry Leonard_


	29. Chapter 29

And so she came home.

Valerie was a mere four years old, but she had been told that Leonard asked Allison for her hand in marriage and cheered when she learned Allison said yes. Once Allison arrived they gathered together, the three of them, affectionately cuddling on the couch, and Valerie grinned and grinned and grinned.

They decided to go down to the justice of the peace for their wedding. It was simple and easily arranged, and involved just the right level of fuss for them—no need to book the shul on short notice, no need to invite more than a few of Leonard's friends as witnesses, and no need for fancy dress. Leonard wore a shirt and tie, and Valerie had on one of those dresses with a handkerchief hem—very stylish. Allison wore her dress uniform, all crisp lines and sharp corners.

Lawrence's arrival the day before the wedding brought out even more joy in the occasion. Allison was nearly as excited as Valerie was—it had been so long since she'd been able to visit with him. They stayed up late talking, Leonard giving up on staying up with them once he had put Valerie to bed. Allison and Lawrence were just as tired as he was but it was a special occasion, much too important to waste sleeping their time away.

The next day Allison sat in the back seat with her daughter as they were driven to their destination, and Valerie snuggled up to her, picking at the button at Allison's throat.

"No, sunshine, don't do that," she said. "Can you be a big girl for me? You need to stand still while the justice of the peace is talking."

"I don't want to," Valerie said.

"You have to," Allison said. "I'll give you that look if you don't." She demonstrated, and Valerie returned the glare with a suppressed smile dancing behind her features.

Leonard led the way once they arrived, taking Valerie's hand, and Allison hung back slightly to walk alongside Lawrence. "Ready?" he asked her.

She let out a little hum and nodded. "Definitely ready," she said.

"Good," Lawrence said, and offered her his arm.

She smiled and took it, hooking her arm in his. She'd never expected to become emotional during this whole process—it was just another event as far as she was concerned—but as the steps Lawrence led her multiplied she felt her eyes fill with tears. This was the culmination of everything, she realized. He had always stepped in when she needed him and now he was leading her to become an official part of his family.

The following moments went by in a blur, because she was thinking not about the events that were currently taking place but about her place in these people's lives, and the love they all held for one another, and her role in life as a soldier, a mother, and now a wife. She was—she was crying. She was crying. Leonard took both her hands in his, facing her, and she became aware the justice of the peace had prompted them to kiss. She swallowed and looked in the eyes of her husband and drew him forward to kiss her, and he did it so tenderly that she sighed.

Later, when the visit with Lawrence had ended, she decided she'd spent so much time with him and with Leonard that she needed to insist on taking time to visit with her daughter alone. She managed to talk Leonard into spending just one evening working on his research. Then she and Valerie left the house, walking at a leisurely pace, side by side, and Valerie kicked a rock on the sidewalk.

"Have you made many friends since you moved?" Allison asked. Leonard had been accepted to the University of Washington for his PhD and it hadn't been long since the move to Seattle.

"Yeah. At tumbling." Valerie started skipping. "Daddy said he's going to put me in dance when I get older."

"You'd be good at it," Allison said. They reached the park and Allison tried to absorb every detail—the way her daughter laughed when she was pushed on the swings, the way she effortlessly crossed the monkey bars, the way she insisted on going down the slide head first. Her face was changing, shifting from the face of a toddler to that of a child. Her hair was darkening from its lighter strawberry blond color to something more red. Her sense of humor was beginning to develop, and she made up story after story for her and her mother to play out.

"It's getting dark," Allison said finally. "We ought to go back."

"One more time on the swing, Mommy? Just one more?"

Allison smiled faintly. "Okay. One more."

It was the next day when she had to go back.

x-x-x-x

And so she came home, another year of her daughter's life gone by. She was the one who had done the research into learning what there was to do nearby their house, and so she was the one who had suggested the amusement park. It was crowded, but Allison was having the time of her life. She'd never been anywhere like this before—and the fact that her daughter got to enjoy something she'd never even imagined being able to experience at her age was exciting and refreshing to her.

Since she was only five years old Valerie was too little to ride the roller coasters herself, but there were kiddy rides that she found thrilling. And Allison had been indulging Valerie's sweet tooth the whole day through. She wasn't aware how Leonard had started to guard his wallet, though, until they entered yet another gift shop and she started perusing the selection. "One thing," he said, coming up beside her. "One."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Don't you want her to remember this? She's too little to without some kind of reminder."

"Which is why I feel like it's a waste of money," he said.

How the turns have tabled, as Lawrence would have said. "Look, if I think it fits in the budget then it fits in the budget," she said. "Leonard, please. Don't be an idiot."

"Look at this, Mommy," Valerie said then, tugging on Allison's hand.

Leonard sighed. "Well, fine."

He tagged along as they continued to browse, picking up some of the items to turn over in his hand. "This stuff is so kitschy," he said.

"Exactly," Allison said, amused.

"What's that mean?" Valerie asked. "What's 'kitschy'?"

"It just means it's the kind of thing that makes you smile," Allison told her. "Which one of these makes you smile the most?"

Valerie scanned the things they had viewed so far, then pointed at the snow globes. "Those ones," she said.

"All right," Allison said, shooting Leonard a small smile. "Let's get a snow globe."

And later, as the trip wound down, Leonard was left to carry the bags as Allison picked up their drowsing daughter to carry out to the car. "What did you _buy_?" he said. "Feels like a bag of gold bars."

Allison shook her head and laughed. "It came out of my account," she said. "Quit freaking out about it."

He trumped forward without replying. Allison knew that meant she had won and she grinned. "Don't worry, I'll spend some money on you later on," she said.

He grunted. "As if that were the point."

"We can afford it, calm down." Obviously she still found his irritation amusing. He shot her a dead-eye look and finished leading the way to the car, opening the back door and setting the bag inside before giving her the room to place Valerie in her car seat.

Allison approached him and draped her arms around his shoulders. "My turn to drive," she said. She'd learned how in her time in the service and had obtained her license.

Leonard pursed his lips. "Don't take the corners too fast," he said.

"I don't, Leonard," she said. She knew his opinion of her driving. But she wasn't as reckless as he seemed to believe.

In any case, she got them home safely, and when they finally got a chance to lie down together in bed she cuddled up to him. "Today was perfect," she muttered, resting her head on the hollow of his shoulder.

"Yeah," he said. He reached his arm around to rub her temple gently with his fingers. "It was."

When she was preparing to leave again Valerie tried to give her the snow globe to take back with her. Allison smiled and pushed Valerie's outstretched hands down lightly. "You need it more than I do," Allison explained. "It's a memory. You don't want to lose that, do you?"

"No," Valerie said, hugging the snow globe to her chest.

"Okay," Allison said. "I have to go now. Give me a kiss."

Valerie complied and Allison hugged her around the shoulders firmly. "Mmh, I'm going to miss you," Allison said.

"Me too," Valerie said. She waited until Allison pulled away. "Bye-bye, Mommy," she said.

Allison reached down to take her hand. "I don't like those words," she said. "How about we say 'see ya'."

"See ya," Valerie said.

"All right," Allison said with one last smile. "See ya."

x-x-x-x

And so she came home. The year had gone by so quickly this time, she could hardly believe her daughter was already six. The visit seemed to be going by quickly too, she found, but it was the quiet moments that seemed to matter most this time around. Accordingly, she was taking the time to simply be with her husband, working on preparing dinner together. Everything that happened as they worked seemed to remind her of some long-ago time—she remembered Leonard teaching her to cook, remembered the way they would work together like this, even when their relationship had been broken up. She smiled over at him enough that he offered her a puzzled smile. "What?" he asked.

"Just remembering," she said, and he seemed to accept that answer, turning to check on the broth that was heating.

"What are you remembering, Mommy?" Valerie asked.

"Just things your dad and I used to do," Allison said. "Stuff like cooking together."

"Can I help too?" Valerie asked, approaching her.

"Maybe in a minute. These vegetables need to go in the pot." She kept chopping carrots while Valerie watched. She finished with one and went to grab another.

Suddenly the girl put her fingers on the cutting board, gripping the side so she could lean in closer. "Are they ready now, Mom?"

"Valerie!" Allison said, immediately switching the knife to her other hand. "I could have cut your finger off."

Valerie backed off, looking surprised. "Would you really cut my finger off?"

"I mean on accident," Allison said. She sighed. "Here, put these in while I cut some more."

"Okay," Valerie said, happy again, and gathered the carrots up clumsily. A wave of impatience gathered up and swelled in Allison's chest but she took a breath to soothe herself. Children were uncoordinated and sometimes had to take their time to do things, and Allison knew that.

Of course, it wasn't as simple as all that. Valerie hovered her hand over the pot to drop the carrots in but immediately pulled back. "It's hot!" she said.

Allison put the knife down on the cutting board. "Yes it is, sunshine. Do you want me to do it?"

"No," Valerie said.

"Good girl," Allison said, happy to see that Valerie still had that stubbornness she had displayed even as an infant.

Eventually, the meal was all cooked. Allison knelt in front of Valerie and took her hands, smiling at her. "You did a good job," she said. "You should always try to do your best, right?"

"Always?" Valerie said.

"Always," Allison said. "Every time you try, you can always do better than the last time."

"Okay," Valerie said. "I will."

After they'd sat down for dinner and cleaned up it was Valerie's bed time. Allison sat down on the girl's bed, pulling her into her lap, and lounged back with the book she had selected. "I think we should read it backward," she said, causing Valerie to giggle.

"But it won't make any sense that way, Mommy." She wiggled though, and turned to the last page. "Look, he's falling asleep. That's not a beginning."

"Can you read this?" Allison asked, pointing at the first word on that page.

"I don't need to," Valerie said. She recited the text from memory, then grinned.

"That is smart," Allison commented. "You must read this book a lot."

"It's my favorite," Valerie said.

So they read it, backward and forward and forward again. Finally Allison sighed and carefully lowered Valerie to the side off of her lap and onto the bed. "It's time for you to go to sleep, sunshine."

"No, it's not," Valerie said. "Stay here."

"Your daddy wants time with me too, Val," Allison said. "We'll see each other again tomorrow."

Valerie pouted, and it took some time for Allison to extract herself, but eventually she did.

When it was time for her to go, she found it was even more bittersweet than the time before. Allison hadn't understood why Valerie had insisted on bringing her book to the airport until she tried to present it to her. Allison nearly pressed it back into her hands, as she had done with the snow globe the year before. But this time she realized the way Valerie was trying to make a connection with something that was already precious to her.

She smiled and accepted it. "Thank you, sunshine," she said. "I'll take good care of it."

As she left she hugged the book to her chest. She never let it go until her flight was ended.

x-x-x-x

And so she came home. Valerie was seven now, and she had graduated from tumbling to gymnastics. Allison's trip home coincided with a competition Valerie would be in. How strange it felt, to know her daughter was skilled enough at something to compete! Her daughter was still so little in her mind.

In any case, she was determined to be Valerie's biggest fan in the audience.

The routines in the competition were compulsory, which meant that each participant was to do the same routine. Allison didn't really know what she was watching for as far as each element went but by the time Valerie was up she'd seen the routine several times. The whole time Valerie was on the floor Allison was on her feet. As far as she could Valerie hit all her marks, and Allison grabbed Leonard's arm and cheered when Valerie's score showed her to be in first place.

It wasn't to last—as more girls did their routines a couple of them bested Valerie's score and she ended up in third place. It was a bit disappointing, but she had still done well. Allison knelt before her after the medal ceremony and smiled.

"Don't worry. You'll get 'em next time," she said.

Valerie looked at her uncertainly. "I will?"

"Yeah," Allison said. "You work hard at it, okay? Even if you're the best, you can always do better. Can you remember that? You should always push yourself to be better."

"Okay." Valerie took her mother's hand when she offered it to her and led her to the locker room.

It was just a couple days later when Allison had to return to her unit again. When she'd first signed up for the Special Forces she'd assumed this would be easier on her than it was turning out to be—and it was lasting longer than she had expected. Turned out longevity didn't have much to do with how much leave time she earned.

She gathered her husband and her daughter to her sides and hugged them, and kissed them in turn. "Here," she said, carefully removing her wedding ring and handing it to Leonard.

"You always leave it behind," he said with a small frown. "I think you ought to have the reminder." But he accepted it regardless.

"Take it as a promise," she said. "I'll be back. Remember that."

He went inside the house to put the ring in a safe place before returning. By then Valerie was clinging to her mother, arms around her waist, squeezing and beginning to cry. "You shouldn't have to go," she says. "I need you."

Allison's expression went soft, and she stroked the girl's hair. "Being away doesn't mean I'm gone," she said. "You and your dad are strong, right?"

"No," Valerie said.

Allison smiled faintly. "Yes, you are. You're a soldier's family, and you support me, and that makes you strong."

"I don't want to be strong," Valerie said. "I want Mommy."

Allison knelt to the ground, holding her daughter's hands. "Listen. Remember what I told you about me leaving?"

Valerie nodded. "But…it's not fair," she said. "I don't want you to go away."

"I know. But don't think of it as me being gone. I always care about what's going on here at home and that's how I stick around. Now I have to go, sunshine. Are you ready?"

Valerie sniffled and let her mother go. "I'm ready."

"All right." And she got into the car, and they drove to the airport, and at the end of their time together she didn't say goodbye. She just went. She released their hands and went on.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Letters From The Sky - Civil Twilight  
_He trusts that through the years she'll always return_

Once When I Was Little - James Morrison  
_Carolina's early life was as carefree as any child's. Her mother wasn't home all the time, but she could trust that her parents would do everything they could to keep her happy and safe._


	30. Chapter 30

"Dad, this isn't fair," Valerie protested, gathering up her book bag. "I'm going to be out of school tomorrow anyway. Why can't I just go with you?" She slung the bag onto her back and turned to face him fully.

"Tomorrow is special," he said. "Missing two days in a row will only make it harder for you when you get back."

"I won't miss anything important," she said. "Please, Dad? She hasn't been home for a year. A _year._ That's practically forever."

"No," he said again, but he sounded like he was wavering to her.

"I'll just do my schoolwork in the car," she said. "You know what Ms. Tandy said about me. I'm the smartest girl in third grade. Just pick up my books from the office before we leave for the airport. Please?"

He shook his head. "I can't believe I'm going to say this—"

"_Yesss_!" she interrupted, jumping up and down and pumping a fist in the air. She started skipping toward the front door from where they stood in the kitchen and opened it. "Come on, you don't want to be late, do you?"

"She doesn't get here until noon, Val," he said. "We'll run by the school and pick up your papers, but before that I'm going to get some research done."

She stuck out her tongue. "You're always researching," she complained. "Let's play that math game instead?"

"Not now, darlin'," he said. "Maybe after your mother's here."

She frowned. "But I don't want to play something by myself. Come on, please?"

He sighed, but he was smiling faintly. "You're going to beat me," he predicted.

"Hell yeah," she said. "_Twice_."

Her father didn't say a word about her language. She remembered when he had gone to a teacher's conference and defended the fact that she swore—if she was taught that there was bad language when in actuality it was just expressive language, it would take on the allure of a taboo. "Twice?" he said. "Three times."

She laughed. "_Dad._"

"Okay, four." He went to the hall closet and got the game out, setting it on the table and sitting down.

She sat across from him, laying her forearms on the tabletop and leaning into them. "I get to go first, I'm younger."

"You are? I never noticed."

Valerie giggled. "You're my dad, of course I'm younger." She touched the control that made the holographic pieces appear on the platform and rolled for a turn. "Ooh," she said when she saw the result. "This one's hard."

"You can do that one," her father said. "Remember how—"

"I don't need help," she said. Her tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth while she did the necessary operation to work out how far she would move, and once she had the number she did so.

Her father made his move second. "Look at that. You're pulling ahead already."

"Ahaha, yes," she cackled, as though she didn't know fortunes reversed easily when playing this game. "You're going down, Dad."

"I'm shaking," he reported, and she laughed.

"Don't tell fibs," she told him. She grinned each time she advanced on the board, even when her father pulled ahead. On his last move, though, he got the answer wrong, and the machine chimed the low tone that signaled a mistake. "That was so dumb," she crowed. "You should have known that one."

"Brain fart, I guess," he said. "You won."

She grinned and set the board up again. As predicted, she won the second round, and then her father stretched. "Okay, one hour of research and then we have to go."

She pouted. "I don't want you to."

"I need to, Valerie. I can't put things off just because I feel like it." He stood, and she stood as well, following when he turned and made his way to the corner of his bedroom, where there was a small office area set up with a computer and books and papers. He sat down, letting his chair turn in the direction of the desk.

"I don't want you to do research," she repeated. "I want Dad." She stood beside his chair and leaned in and put her arms around his middle. Given his girth, it was easy for her to meet her hands behind him, and she squeezed him tightly. He snaked his arm between his body and her arm to firmly push her away.

"I don't have time for you to pull this stuff," he said. "Now go."

"I don't want to go." She pulled her arm back to disengage it from his and return it to encircling his chest.

"You're too old to behave this way," he said, now sounding irritable instead of playful. "I humored you for a while but I have things to do."

She frowned and backed up. "But I want Dad. Please?"

He set a hand on the edge of the desk and looked at the time. He sighed. Valerie bounced a bit. There was reason they called that the magic word. He always seemed to cave into it.

"Let's read," she said, taking his hand and pulling. "That one about how the computer came to life, Dad. Come on, please?"

"Only one time through," he said, standing. This, of course, proved not to quite be true, because Valerie wanted to hear her favorite parts more than once. But as soon as they finally got through the last page he guided her to the car and they got her books picked up from the school before heading to the airport. Valerie liked the airport. She got to come here whenever they flew out to Austin, where her grandfather lived. She even remembered her first flight, when they moved from San Diego here to Seattle, so her dad could work on his PhD. She hadn't really understood anything about that at the time, of course, but what she knew now was that getting the degree meant he'd get to brag about how much research he'd done and how smart he was.

This was the first time she'd had the chance to be there to pick up her mother, though, and being here to witness her arrival was really exciting. "I can't wait," she complained to her dad. "I feel like I'm going to explode."

"It won't be much longer, darlin'," he said.

"Pick me up," she said, tugging on his shirt. "I want to see her first."

"Valerie, don't act like a child," he said. "Stop pulling."

She stopped, but tapped his arm moments later. "Pick me up?"

"No, Val. You're too big and heavy." He lifted his chin then, gazing forward, seemingly seeing Allison in the crowd that flowed through the exit from the terminal.

"Not fair," Valerie complained. "Let me see. Please? Please? Pleeeease?"

He heaved a sigh. "Just for a minute," he said. "I won't be able to hold you up for all that long."

She laughed in triumph and swung herself onto his back, where he held her piggy-back. She wasn't really any taller than he was this way, but she was taller than she was by herself. "Oh look," she said. "That man has a funny hat."

"Don't talk about people," her dad said.

"Why not?" she said, confused.

"Because you might say something rude they might overhear."

"But you say things about people," she said. "What about that one time—"

"Not where they can hear," he interrupted.

"So it's only rude if they hear you?" she asked.

"Something like that," he said.

Just then she started bouncing in his arms. "Dad, Dad, it's Mom. _MOM_!" She waved, wrapping her other arm around her father's neck.

"Stop," he said in irritation. "Get down, you saw her."

"But I want her to see me," Valerie said, waving again. "Mom, Mom!"

Her mother waved and Valerie laughed and climbed down off of her dad's back to run forward.

"Don't run!" he said, but Valerie didn't listen. It wasn't like he could run up behind her and make her stop. He wasn't near as athletic as she was. Her mother stopped walking as she approached and dropped her duffel, and Valerie ran right into her arms.

"I missed you, Mom," she said, and squeezed the side of her face against the hollow of her mother's shoulder.

"I know, sunshine," her mother said, rubbing her hands on Valerie's back. "Look how fast you run!" she added. "Pretty soon you'll be running a one-minute mile."

Valerie giggled. "That's good, right?" she said, letting her mother let her go.

"Nope, it's awesome," her mother said. "And I know you can do it one day."

Valerie beamed as her father approached. "I told you not to run, Val."

"Oh, she was excited," her mother admonished. "Let her do what she wants."

"I do that too much," he said. "She shouldn't be running in a crowded place."

"Shush," her mother said, and picked her bag back up. "Why don't you see if you can beat us to the baggage claim, sunshine?"

"Where is it?" she asked bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Look for the signs," her father said. "You know how to follow signs."

She nodded and looked around until she saw one of them, then took off. She dodged the slower-moving adults, giggling, even running down the moving sidewalk before reaching the baggage claim area. There were a bunch of conveyers with bags going around and around on them. She had no idea which one she needed to be at, so she turned and waited for her parents.

It took them forever to get to her. "What took so long?" she asked.

"We didn't run," her mother said with a chuckle. "Next time try and wait for us old people."

"Mom," she protested. "Not fair."

"Nope, but you learned better than you would have if I'd told you, didn't you?" he mother said with amusement.

"It's better for you to stay with us," her dad said.

"That's not why you didn't want me to run." She tossed her head. "Anyway, it was funner."

"Funner isn't a word," her dad said. "Come on, let's get Mom's bag and go get lunch."

"What do you mean it's not a word? I just said it. So it's a word."

"Listen to the queen of the dictionary," her father said with amusement, following her mother to the correct baggage claim. "I don't think leading scholars would agree."

Her mother scoffed. "Okay, Leo-_nerd_."

"Really?" her father said. "That's low-hanging fruit, Allison."

"That's why I never said it before. But I need to teach Valerie to start somewhere."

Valerie giggled. "Leo-nerd," she repeated. "Leo-nerd, hahaha."

"Stop it," her dad said.

"Don't stop it," her mother said, and plucked a bag from the belt.

Valerie looked around for signs to the exit, and once she saw them she started skipping ahead.

"Can't catch me!" she called back to them.

"Yup, you really taught her a lesson," she heard her father say.

She heard her mother laugh just before she got out of earshot.

x-x-x-x

Her mother's birthday was on the second day of the visit. Valerie was allowed to skip school today so she could help celebrate. She woke early as usual, though, running down the stairs to join her mother, who was sitting on the couch. "Mom, Mom, Mom," she said. "Did Dad make the pancakes yet?"

Her mother looked at her. "Oh, honey, no, we've been watching the news," she said. She noticed now her parents' expressions—they looked worried.

"Why?" she said. "I'm hungry."

Her mother glanced at her father, then took Valerie's hand. "Listen, sunshine, something happened and we're very sad about it right now. We're going to make breakfast in a little bit but right now we're listening."

"Okay," she said. She turned around and sat in her mother's lap.

"You don't have to watch this, darlin'," her father said. "It's grown-up stuff."

"But I want to know why you're sad," she said.

"It's complicated," her mother said.

"Is it about the war?" Valerie asked.

Her mother sighed. "Yes, honey. Something big happened, bigger than anything that's happened before, and it might mean there's a lot of trouble."

"I'm not a baby," Valerie said firmly. "Tell me about it."

Her mother glanced at her father, who nodded. "Well, there was a colony planet that the Insurrection attacked," she explained. "They bombed the whole planet. Nothing like that has ever happened before. They think this is going to escalate things—which means make it so there's a lot more fighting."

Valerie frowned. "Could they do that here?"

"I don't think so, sunshine. This was very, very far away." She stroked Valerie's shoulder. "But they're going to call up a lot more soldiers, and my commander already sent me a message that said my leave might be cut short."

"No," Valerie whined. "That's not fair. You just got here."

"I know, but that's how things go sometimes. And that means you have to be brave."

Valerie and her mother looked over at her father, who had just leaned forward to put his face in his hands. "Daddy?"

"It's okay, Val," her mother said, moving her arm to put it around her father's shoulders. "He's just sad, like I said."

"I think he's scared," Valerie said. "'Cause I'm scared."

"That too," her mother said more quietly. "How about we make the pancakes and turn the news off."

"Okay, Mom," Valerie said, getting up. "I want chocolate chips."

"That's a lot of sugar," her mother said, standing and turning off the terminal.

"Dad always lets me," Valerie said. "Come on…please?"

"Okay," her mother said, and after they moved to the kitchen her mother bent and gave her a tight hug. "You're my brave little soldier, right?" she asked.

"Ready for duty," Valerie said obligingly.

Her mother smiled, but it looked sad somehow. "Okay. I need flour and sugar and I don't know where they are."

Valerie saluted. "Right here, sir," she said, and opened the correct cabinet.

Her mother laughed. "Thank you. At ease, now."

"That means I can go play, right?" Valerie asked.

"Yes," her mother said. "Yes, it does."


	31. Chapter 31

_She approaches, blocks his view, swipes at the device and tries to get him to lower it. He's just managed to figure out how to turn this setting on but he's been pointing it at her for minutes on end and she's tired of it._

"_Stop it._"

This was what she had chosen.

She had known there was a war going on when she decided to enlist; that fact had been inescapable, even to a naïve eighteen year old. But she'd gone to the recruitment office, signed the papers without a moment's hesitation. This was what she wanted to be and where she intended to stay.

_She shakes her head, fixes him with an irritated look, and speaks insistently. Her words are impatient, her manner dismissive, though she doesn't mean to be. He's just always acting like this when it's time for her to go._

"_You're going to make me late. They're waiting for me._"

This was what she had chosen.

The trappings of military life had become a shield for her, a cocoon, a place she felt safe. She belonged there; she had never found something that she had such aptitude for, that made her feel competent and skilled like this.

_He grabs for her, in a way that she knows he's unwilling to let her go—and it seems symbolic of the way he feels about her in general. It's so like him, she can't help letting a bit of good humor slip into her tone even as she expresses her exasperation._

"_Leonard, come on._"

But this was what she had chosen.

A life away from the man she loved, from her child, from the things that would make life soft and comfortable. She wasn't into soft and comfortable. What would she have done remaining in civilian life, working at some other career? She couldn't imagine it.

_He's not convinced and she has to draw closer again, speaking sincerely, looking straight into his eyes._

"_I have to go._"

She laced up her boots, gathered her things, and set them outside. Her family was there, ready to see her off, but as ever, she made certain they wouldn't give her a farewell when they parted.

_She's already mentally preparing to get on the plane, preparing to endure the hours of travel to return to her unit, but the least she can do is show Leonard everything is well. Teasing him, being lighthearted—that would show him nothing is unusual here._

"_Don't make me hurt you._"

She'd always refused in the past. Just this once, he'd said, just this once. He wanted something to remember her visit by, something that was a little more of a reminder than the memories of her stay. She was uncomfortable with the idea but what was one little recording? Nothing in the scheme of things. And it wasn't like she'd ever have to watch it herself.

_She knows he's aching with concern, the idea of sending her back to a war zone burdening his mind. She stands back, letting herself be seen in full view, and speaks reassuringly._

"_And don't worry_."

Her daughter was quiet, hanging back, chewing on a thumbnail, frowning. And him—he was worried, lines creasing his face. He didn't want her to go. He didn't want her to go.

_There's no way she can truly make a guarantee, she knows, but even on the front lines the chances of her being injured or killed are relatively low. The UNSC has the advantage over the Insurrection and she has faith the government can bring the conflict to an end soon._

"_You'll see me again._"

The camera clicked off when she walked by, the deed done, the sentiments expressed, the final parting now to come. She reassured them that she would be with them, in spirit if nothing else, and she smiled a bittersweet smile as they parted.

"_I hate goodbyes_."

This was what she had chosen.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Say You'll Haunt Me - Stone Sour  
_Leonard hates it every time Allison is deployed_

Still Here - Digital Daggers  
_Leonard's reaction to her leaving to fight a new threat is to cling_


	32. Chapter 32

"This is bullshit," Leonard exploded.

"I know," she said.

"Seriously, bullshit," he said. "There's no way they didn't have this planned a long time ago. And they just told you about it?"

She frowned. "I didn't say that," she said.

Leonard stopped, his jaw dropping slightly. "Wait… How long have you know about this?"

"I shouldn't have waited to tell you," she said. "That's my fault."

"_How long_, Allison?" he said.

"It doesn't matter, Leonard." She looked away for a moment. "I knew and I should have said something and I didn't."

"So this is it? You tell me 'I'm on a special assignment and I'll be in cryo and I can't talk to you the whole time I'm gone and oh yeah, it's risky and I might not come back at all' and that's the last thing I hear from you for God knows—"

"I'm sorry, okay?" she said, talking over him, knowing the delay meant she just had to interrupt his rant. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't… I couldn't, Leonard, don't judge me for that."

"I do," he said. "This is part of what you signed up for. Keeping me in the dark just makes it harder later."

"I know," she whispered.

"Why did you wait so long?" he asked.

"I can't tell you," she said, rubbing her arm. "I just had to do it this way. I'm sorry."

"Sure," he said. "You're sorry and it's all okay because of that."

She looked down and away. "I don't expect you not to be mad."

"Well, I am. I am mad. I'm very angry with you and this situation."

"Leonard," she said. "Please forgive me."

He shook his head. "I'm going to get Valerie up so you two can talk," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Please."

He was gone for several minutes, leading Valerie in as he returned. She was rubbing one of her eyes and seemed confused. "Mommy?" she said, sitting in the seat in front of the camera.

"Hi, sunshine," Allison said, feeling suddenly that her throat was closing. "Sorry I didn't think about the time when I called."

"It's okay." Valerie was holding her blanket around her shoulders, and she pulled it tighter around her neck. "What's going on?"

"I just have something going on…something important…and I'm not going to be able to get a hold of you for a while. So I wanted to make sure we got a chance to talk first."

"Sure," Valerie said. "You're always doing important things."

"Right." Allison pressed her lips into a line for a moment. Leonard was right, she shouldn't have shied away from giving them this news. Something she well knew, but it had been too easy to avoid calling to share it. "You remember what I've told you about me being away?"

"Yes," Valerie said. "I know. You aren't really gone—you just aren't here right now." She frowned. "But that's because we get to talk."

"It's still true, even though I'll be out of touch. Can you do something for me? I need you to be strong. For your father. That'll mean a lot to him."

Valerie nodded slowly. She was used to being told to be strong, Allison knew. "Dad's angry," she reported. "He doesn't want me to know. He left."

Allison rubbed her cheek. "I told him it'll be a while before I can call again," she said. "He's upset with me."

"Should I be upset with you, too?" Valerie asked.

"I don't want you to be, but I don't blame you if you are. You can't help how you feel."

There wasn't much to talk about after that—Valerie had recently told her all about what was happening in school, and Allison couldn't really share much about what she was doing. But after a while Leonard came back and shooed Valerie back to bed. Valerie blew a kiss to the screen, which Allison returned, and Leonard sat down in the chair.

"I have to go to bed for work," Leonard said. "I'd stay on here all night with you if I could, otherwise."

"I need to go get some sleep too," she said. "I'll call you when I get back."

"Sure," he said. "It better be the first thing you do."

"See you," she said. He didn't respond, only looked at her, so she disconnected.

She sighed and rose and exited the room. She had meant to tell him during their last call. She didn't know why she had wimped out on saying something, but at least she had had this final chance to talk to him.

She made her way back to her quarters, pondering what was coming. It was going to be a two-month-long trip, but she'd be traveling in cryo sleep, insensible to the length of time. The truth was still being kept from the general public, but her unit had been briefed about what really happened on Harvest. It hadn't been Insurrectionists—it was a completely unknown enemy, an alien ship that had attacked the colony and used powerful energy weapons to seemingly melt the surface of the ground. A fleet of forty battle cruisers was deploying to Harvest to try to overwhelm the attacking ship, but against such advanced weaponry, no one could be sure they would succeed.

She had six hours free now before it was time to report for duty, and she laid down in bed, trying not to allow her anticipation to keep her awake. She had a mixture of fear and resolve which she wanted to use to her advantage. If things went her way she would not fail in this mission. She had a crucial role to play in this battle. Though she hadn't entirely known what she was in for when her unit had trained for this mission, she knew success meant she would have even more opportunities than before. This could be a step on the journey to becoming an ODST, an even more elite unit than the one she was a member of now.

In the morning she put on her armor and looked in the mirror. She turned this way and that to inspect the way the drab olive and green polymer suit looked on her. Then she let a steely grin spread over her face and she grabbed her helmet, tucking it under her arm. This was it. No turning back now.

She joined the other marines who were heading to the tarmac to embark on the battle cruiser. Soon she was approaching one of the cryo chambers, where the munitions and ordnance technicians would ride during the transport to Harvest. The other marines in her Special Forces unit were filing in, each of them choosing a pod and carefully climbing inside. Allison looked up and down the rows. She looked at their faces, feeling a wave of pride that she was able to serve alongside them. That was the thing about being a soldier. There was no tighter-knit group than comrades who had eaten, slept, and fought in the same place. Everyone who was in this area of the ship with her would be manning and maintaining the Archer missile pods. There were so many of them. She knew that there were a lot of missiles to be fired during this battle. She was glad to be there among so many that were prepared to do their duty.

She glanced to her side. Jaime Figueroa had entered the pod beside hers, hir face grim. She could just see the photo ze was looking at, one of a small girl.

"I'm thinking about mine, too," Allison said in a quiet tone. Tender moments were not her forte, but Jaime seemed to need a distraction.

Ze leaned forward to glance at her, clearing hir throat and holding the picture out so that she could see it better. Ze pulled it in and seemed to take a moment to reminisce before speaking. "I…I keep thinking about what will happen if this mission doesn't succeed."

Allison trained her gaze forward. "My husband wanted to kill me when I told him about this. I waited too long."

"He doesn't understand how hard this is for us to know what we're heading into," Jaime said.

"It doesn't change how I did things. But I keep thinking…how great it'll be to get back so he can yell at me for it."

Jaime let out a sound that might have been a chuckle if they weren't being so somber. "I know what you mean."

They lapsed into silence and Allison rested her head back and closed her eyes. She had a feeling Figueroa was about as ready for this as she was—that is, not at all. She felt kind of jumpy, like she had a trickle of adrenaline already going in anticipation. She tried to relax her mind and quiet that feeling. Soon enough the gas that would put her into stasis would blast through the pod and she needed to be ready.

Still, there were a lot of images jumbling through her head, things she hadn't thought of in a long time. She remembered the first time she'd crashed on Leonard's couch. Leonard had already gone to bed and she'd awakened. Lawrence had been there, watching the news, and she'd sat up and stretched. "Do I need to go?" she'd asked groggily. Lawrence had sighed and offered her a small smile, and told her she could stay there if she needed to. Leonard had just gotten a haircut that day and she had been making fun of how odd it looked, cut straight across his forehead. Since she had met him his black hair had been left straggly, just long enough to curl into ringlets, and hiding his green eyes.

Leonard, who she had somehow come to rely on so much in such a short period of time. Ever since he'd moved in there seemed to be some kind of special connection between them. She had been so angry with him when he moved away. Looking at it now she knew how illogical her anger had been. The invitation to come live in his house those several years later was something she had never expected. She had known about his crush on her, she'd known it had bordered on infatuation, but that wasn't enough for her to believe he wouldn't try to take advantage of her. In a way she'd wanted to prove it. And though he had tried to see himself as the good guy, as her protector, it was clear he wasn't quite cut out for the role he'd tried to insert himself into.

Her thoughts continued to stray. She remembered the aftermath of her encounter with her mother. When she exited the house, it was like she was turning her back on her entire past. Her mother had always chosen men over her. Now it was up to Allison to choose her daughter over her mother. It was up to her to leave all that behind and head into her future, a future filled with good things.

But with that thought she felt hot tears prickling inside her closed eyelids and she squeezed the palms of her hands against them angrily. _What is wrong with me? I don't give a fuck about her now._ That was what she needed to remember. Her mother had allowed Allison to grow up in a hellhole of an environment. Now she had finally admitted that she stood by and did nothing, nothing at all, when she learned her boyfriend had been touching Allison.

The incidents of molestation had driven her away, and she'd had to find her own way in the world. Leonard had helped that come to an end. But he'd never truly understood what she was trying to escape, or the way he'd failed in doing things right. She'd forgiven him for it, but it would always be there in the background between them. For that reason she was glad she'd found a way to make her own way in the world, fighting for what she believed in.

The front panels of the cryo pods all lowered in place as one, and she opened her eyes to take in the stillness and the unsettling quiet. As quick as this procedure was meant to make the trip seem, it certainly took a long time for them to get on with it.

She closed her eyes again. In her mind's eye she could see Leonard, taking care of the baby that evening even as she disengaged, unable to do anything but try to avoid thinking about what had happened that day. That feeling of unreality that she'd first felt when she entered her mother's house had persisted that evening and into the next day, and when it happened he just took over, as though he knew she needed that, and he hadn't pressed her. As immature and argumentative as he could be, in moments like those he seemed to know just what to do.

And as she considered it, one fact crystallized in her mind: Leonard was more loyal to her than her own mother. She felt her throat close, suddenly emotional. She would do anything now to go back and change the way she had fought him on making that final film—fought him on ever recording her when she visited or when she was making her farewells. Why had that seemed so important, anyway?

She didn't know when she'd finally been frozen, but suddenly she was awakening, falling out of the chamber and trying not to vomit. Allison heard a klaxon go off on the ship, blaring once and twice more, followed by an announcement from the loudspeakers. She opened her eyes to see her fellow-soldiers recovering, slowly righting themselves as she did the same. Allison put her hand on the pod and stood up straighter. She needed to shake off her disorientation. They had nearly arrived at Harvest. The battle was about to begin.

* * *

Allison pulled her helmet out of her locker, put it on, and secured it to her armor. Everyone around her was grimly silent, preparing in the same way as she. She then headed down to the missile bay to which her unit had been assigned. Figueroa had been assigned as her partner. They approached the missile pod and they silently began their checks.

"All battle stations, stand at the ready," came the clipped, businesslike voice over the intercom. "ETA at Harvest is eight minutes."

"This is it," Allison said, more to herself than anything. But Figueroa clapped her on the shoulder reassuringly.

"This is what we've trained for, Texas. We're gonna show these things what a UNSC boot up the ass feels like. If they even have asses."

She nodded, glad ze couldn't see her face behind her visor. Instead of being encouraged she was suddenly afraid. She had made deliberate decisions that led to her being here in this ship, knowing that there was a real possibility that she would never see her family again. She could see Leonard's face whenever she closed her eyes, looking at her in that way he did that told her he was captivated with her, that he loved her more than anything. She could see Valerie, who had grown into a clever and athletic girl, smiling that beautiful smile of hers. Allison dwelled on that for just an instant, then opened her eyes and hardened her jaw. This role had become a part of her, as much as her role as Leonard's wife and Valerie's mother had become a part of her, and she had a duty to concentrate on this to carry it out.

The klaxon sounded again and the voice came over the intercom. "ETA one minute."

Figueroa bowed with a flourish and opened the Archer pod for Allison to load the missile into it. She did so expertly, glad for the chance to be able to clear her mind and let her training take over. Then she stood, at the ready, for the sound of the missile bursting from the pod so that she could reload it again. The missile bay had gone silent, everyone tense and waiting for the battle to engage.

Their only notice that the battle had begun was the rattling sound of the missile pods firing. The strategy was to fire half of the missiles and follow with the other half within ten seconds. Allison let herself fall into the rhythm of the sounds that guided her hands: The clunk of the pod door opening, the swish of the missile gliding in, and the sound of their gun alternating with the others.

There came a rumbling sound and Allison was momentarily distracted. "What is _that_?" She immediately forced herself to concentrate again. She absolutely could not get distracted in the middle of all this. But in the back of her mind she identified the sound with barely registered horror. It was a wave of debris hitting the hull of the ship. She had only reloaded the gun 3 times before it hit—it had only been around 45 seconds since the battle had begun. The sound of a second wave of debris hit right after the first one.

The klaxon sounded again. "Fire all at my mark!" The voice over the loudspeakers no longer sounded detached. The officer giving orders from somewhere on the flagship was shouting, whether in fear or urgency Allison didn't know. "Repeat, prepare to fire all! MAC guns at twenty seconds, all Archer and Shiva missile stations at thirty seconds! Prepare for a repeat volley!"

Figueroa stood tense as the voice began a countdown, ready to open the door again as soon as the Archer missile had fired. Allison went ahead and prepared the next missile to load into it. The missile bay echoed with the boom of all the missiles going off at once. It seemed to Allison that she could even hear the sound echoing from all the other missile bays throughout the ship. Figueroa opened the pod door and Allison expertly slid in the missile. But instead of the sound of the missiles firing again she heard a strange popping, and a hum, like energy building.

Allison looked up to see the joints of the ceiling of the missile bay glowing. Rivets were popping out of the ceiling and raining down all around them. She registered that their ship had been hit with a detached serenity. The glow spread to the joints in the walls and now rivets were shooting by in all directions.

Energy sparked between the glowing arcs and she felt a shockwave that knocked her off her feet. The cruiser was ripping apart at the seams. The artificial gravity was failing and the sensation she felt was something like falling, but weightlessly, clinging to a crazily tilting floor. Allison reached down and activated the oxygen reserve of her suit. It would only give her a few extra minutes of survival if she were blasted into space, but what was she if not a survivor?

The lights in the walls and between the missile bays were popping, dramatically spraying shards of plastic and metal. Allison looked over and saw Figueroa among the sparks, who was floating just off the surface of the floor. Ze wasn't moving. Allison turned over and did a crawl to reach hir, thinking she might float away from hir at any moment, finally able to reach to flip the switch on hir suit for the oxygen reserve. It was futile, but it gave her something to concentrate on if for only a moment.

She pushed off, turning to face the hull. If she was going to go out, it wasn't going to be while she was clinging to the floor. A moment ago she had been able to hear voices shouting and moaning, but now all she heard was a great tearing, a roaring of twisting metal. And then the stars began to appear.

_Leonard._ _Valerie. _She closed her eyes, and mentally she transported herself to the last time she saw them. It hadn't been long after they'd heard the news about Harvest, and though she hadn't been called to cut her leave short as they'd feared, their farewells seemed to be coming far too soon. They were leaving her at the airport, outside the security line as always, and they both squeezed her, Leonard at her shoulders and Valerie at her waist. "You remember," he muttered to her, "when I asked you to promise to be careful?"

It took her a moment, but then she nodded. He tilted his head and held her tightly. "You know I won't let you go that easily this time, Allison. But I asked for the wrong promise." He pushed her back so that he could look her in the eye. "Promise me, every time you make a decision—no matter how small—promise me you'll think of us. Think of us here, waiting for you."

That's what she had done, though not in the way he meant it. She made all her decisions to ensure that she would be able to fight for their safety there on Earth. She did not want this enemy to lash out at their homeworld and jeopardize their lives.

She felt her heart swell to bursting. It was impossible, but she could feel his arms wrapped around her. She reached out for him blindly, and as everything fell cold and silent, she heard his voice murmur in her ear.

"You know I won't let you go that easily."

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Requiem Mass in D minor (K. 626) - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart  
_Allison's death is a devastating event_


	33. Chapter 33

She could remember the day her world shattered. At least, the moments leading up to it. She knew it had been a fairly ordinary day at school—nothing about it stood out in her mind until the bus ride home. She'd been teasing one of her friends—Marcus was his name—showing him the kite she had made to show her father. Her dad had explained the science behind how and why kites worked and she was fascinated with the whole mechanic. She had been making them often, adding more and more variations in their shapes and sizes, to test them out with her father.

"That's so geeky," Marcus said. "Who cares how they work?"

"I do," she said. "I want to know about everything."

They got off at the same bus stop, and she ran as she moved away from him, holding up the kite and letting it flap in the air. "Can't catch me!" she taunted. And it was true, she knew she was a faster runner than him. She was a faster runner than everyone.

"Don't do that!" Marcus said. "Don't run off without me!"

She slowed. "I'm a marathon runner," she said. "From ancient Greece! And I have to deliver a message."

"That's a dumb game," Marcus said. "You're just going to your house."

"It's not dumb, _Marcus_," she said. "You have no imagination." Just then they reached her front yard and she split off from him, waving. "See ya!"

There was an extra car in the driveway. That could only mean there were adults visiting, perhaps people who hadn't been expected to drop by. Curious, she prepared to slip inside the door and investigate, letting the kite dangling from her fingers.

Her father was there in the living room. He was sitting on his knees, on the floor, elbows on the coffee table, face in his hands. Two other men sat nearby, men in military uniforms, and one of them was kneeling beside her father with his hand on his shoulder.

Valerie felt the dread hit her in a wave. She was only eight, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what it meant when a pair of military men came to the door.

"No!" she said, dropping the kite, and ran forward to wrap her arms around her father's shoulders. "No, no, no!"

Her father had been silent when she entered, but that seemed to be the signal for him to begin to shudder, wracked with sobs, and her voice joined in with his.

She couldn't remember how long the men stayed that day, nor how long she spent out of school before and after the funeral, but she did remember her return. No one seemed to know how to act around her. And she rejected any attempts the other kids made at renewing their friendships with her. She could remember Marcus becoming angry with her and telling her she was being a jerk, and she clocked him in the mouth.

She also couldn't remember when it became routine for her to care for herself. At some point her break from school ended and she had to take charge of feeding herself and keeping on schedule. It never occurred to her that she could simply neglect these duties—despite the fact that her father spent much of his time insensible, propped up in the corner of the couch, practically a fixture there. She could remember one of the first days this was necessary—she got ready, and came out into the living room, prepared to slip out the door.

"I'm leaving, Dad," she said.

He didn't move or respond.

She shook his arm. "Dad, I have to go," she said. "Eat breakfast. Don't sleep all day."

He didn't move or respond.

She frowned and turned, walking slowly away. She felt guilty somehow. If only she could be more…more caring, or something, she'd be able to drag him out of his stupor and back to the land of the living. As always these days, she kept to herself during the ride on the bus, and she kept to herself when she arrived at the school, and she kept to herself even when the teacher came over at recess and asked her about her day.

Things got a bit better over the summer. Her father returned to school and started eating more often and more regularly, which seemed to be a signal that things would reach some sort of new measure of normal (as normal as things could be with her mother dead). Still, he often spent all night doing his schoolwork and slept all day, leaving Valerie once again in a situation where she was caring for herself.

The first day she was to return to school she awoke with a terribly stuffy nose, sneezing and feeling slightly feverish. She went to her father's room, where the blinds were pulled down to block the early morning sunlight, and shook him. "Dad, I'm sick," she said. "Can I stay home from school?"

He fended her hand off and rolled onto his other side.

"_Dad_," she said again, shaking him until he finally cracked an eye open. "Can I stay home from school?"

He grunted. "I'll think about it," he mumbled, and put his head down again.

That was good enough for her. She settled onto the couch with a bowl of cereal and a box of tissues and watched daytime television. It was nice to be able to prolong her summer for a day, though being sick was no fun.

Her father got up in the afternoon and ambled slowly into the living room. "What are you doing here?" he asked, puzzled.

"I stayed home from school because I was sick," she said.

He became cross. "You should have asked."

"I did ask," she said. "You said you'd think about it and went back to sleep."

"Don't wake me up to ask me things," he grumbled.

"Sorry," she said. She wasn't sorry though, how could she be? It was his own fault he kept the schedule he did.

Things were getting back to normal at school, too. She stopped withdrawing from the other kids and socialized more, though they were distant after she had ignored them for so long. It was okay, sort of. She made up with Marcus. She cracked jokes in the lunchroom. She endured the fact that she knew others talked behind her back.

But the new normal was still nothing like the old normal. Like the high holy days in the fall—her father didn't acknowledge them at all. Her grandfather came to visit, and he took her to shul, but her dad stayed home. When they came back, he was in the same state he'd spent the months after her mother's death—numbly staring into space, barely speaking, barely eating.

After this her father put her back into gymnastics, though he didn't stay to observe her classes nearly as often as he once had. It seemed like every time something seeped back into their new normal from the old, he remained disconnected from it.

On the anniversary of her mother's death the following spring, they sat down on the couch and her father set the yahrzeit candle on the coffee table. This was meant to be done a few times a year, as a symbol of their grief and pain, though the most notable occasion they were supposed to have done it, the high holy days, had already passed. He leaned in with the lighter and touched it to the wick, then settled back and watched the flame of the candle dance, unmoving. Valerie scooted up beside him, hooking her arm in his, and watched the flame as well for a while. She took his hand and started lifting and dropping his fingers, one at a time, to watch them twitch against her arm. It was quiet, and it was still, and after a time she found it was boring. She sighed and leaned her head on his arm.

"Dad," she said at length, "why don't we ever go to shul anymore?"

He frowned, and with his free hand he took off his glasses. "I can't," was his reply, spoken softly.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Don't ask me questions, Valerie," he said.

She went silent. It seemed emblematic of the way things were now—don't ask me questions, don't initiate conversation, don't expect my help.

One day, out of nowhere, he began to notice her grades. He sat down with her one day, brandishing her report card, and pointed at the D and two Cs that were printed there. "This is unacceptable," he said, as though this was the first time she'd brought home a poor grade in the last year.

She was dismayed—she could tell he was trying to keep a lid on it, but he was angry. "I'm sorry," she said.

"That doesn't matter," he grumbled. "Just bring them up."

She nodded. "Can I go outside?" she said.

"Yes," he said.

She went out the door, rounded the corner, and started to run. This had become her joy in the year since her mother had died. It used up her nervous energy, sure, but it was exhilarating in its own right as well. The rhythm of it, one foot pounding before the other, the wind rushing by, the way it felt like she left all her frustrations behind when her running began.

So she ran, ran down the block and back again, ran until her heart was ready to beat out her chest and until she could barely breathe.

And just for a moment, she left her troubles behind.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Calm Under The Waves - Maria Mena  
_The enormity of death seems as wide as the ocean and Carolina is forced to remember her mother as best she can_

I'm Sorry, I'm Lost - Epigram  
_Leonard is left drifting after Allison dies_

Don't Wake Me Up - The Hush Sound  
_Leonard retreats into his mental fortress where Allison's memory is the strongest_

Little Talks - Of Monsters And Men  
_Leonard deals poorly with the aftermath of Allison's death_

From Jewish Life - Ernest Bloch  
_One of the casualties of Allison's death is the keeping of their heritage_


	34. Chapter 34

Things were better these days, ever since he'd carried out his thesis defense and received his PhD. The first year? That had been the worst. At first, he'd been nearly insensible in his anguish, unable to do much, even to feed and dress himself. He'd ended up withdrawing a lot from his daughter that spring and summer. Not intentionally, not at all, but it took so much energy sometimes even to think. Yet he didn't know how he would have made it through without her being there with him. She took on so many responsibilities she shouldn't have had to take on. Sometimes he was sure he would have starved to death without her intervention.

Even in the midst of this it was clear to him he would need to go back to his schooling at the University of Washington that autumn. He hadn't wanted his fellowship to run out after his leave of absence; a gap would have made things simply too difficult to return to his schooling. He remembered that he had felt a lot different from the other students when he had gone back for school. They were so carefree in contrast to his grief. To them the war was something that was happening a billion miles away in some far-off star system with a vaguely recognizable name. Leonard lived with the consequence of the war every day of his life. It helped him to get out of the house sometimes, but he really had no passion for anything. He had constant nightmares about that last argument with Allison and about her death; the sleep deprivation was difficult to handle.

But now it wasn't the way it had been back then, even if he had his down days. The move to Massachusetts gave him and Valerie a fresh start, and Leonard had a new sense of purpose. He'd learned about this postdoctoral fellowship via a job posting online—something as mundane as that. He had been pressing through a pang of grief when he found it, having resorted to reading the ads out loud to help him concentrate on the words, knowing that as hopeless as he felt, being out of work would make it worse. And that's when he came across the description of a program at MIT. In an effort to discontinue the practice of creating smart AIs from natural brain tissue—requiring the use of a recently deceased person's brain—the university had invented a method of holographically scanning and modeling the structure of the brain inside the computer. But no one had yet determined a method of creating an AI from this information. The jobs that were available were for postgraduate researchers, recent PhD candidates like himself, to carry out the research that they hoped would lead to this discovery.

He had heard about the program before, but he'd never considered the implications. Because in partnership with the UNSC, the university had sponsored a program where they had begun holographically scanning the brains of members of the Special Forces, in hopes of one day creating advanced combat AIs.

_They had copies of Special Forces members' brains._ Could it be? Could they have a copy of Allison's brain?

After this he had become driven as he had never been in his life, at least when it came to securing a specific position. He needed to make a good impression on the hiring committee and the professors at MIT, and as much as he could at this late stage, he geared elements of his doctoral thesis toward gaining their trust that he was working on relevant research.

The most delicate part of the plan was applying for the government clearance he needed, because he wasn't sure that he would be able to gain it. He knew that it would be a very bad thing to lie on the application, however, so all he could do was write down that he had been married to someone in Special Forces and cross his fingers.

To his relief the government granted his clearance. It had been hard to convince Valerie the move was a good one, but kids always hated moving. He even remembered when he himself had had to move from Atlanta to Austin as a young teen, and how resistant he had been to it. And everything had turned out fine in the end—better than fine, really. As hard as losing Allison had been, he never would regret having met her.

Yet, even if he had his reasons for being here, that didn't mean life didn't go on. He had to resist feeling guilty about the fact that his grief was easing—it didn't mean he loved Allison any less. But the missing her had become more of a dull ache than the unrelenting weight it had been before. He thought about this a lot at first, but the more time went by the less it came to mind. Life was life and it was to be lived.

And so he began to live.

At first it was subtle. He was more likely to linger after work to engage in conversation. He was more likely to smile or laugh at someone's joke.

And eventually came the day that he was able to arrange for Valerie to stay later at her sitter's so he could head out for a drink with a few coworkers. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done something like this. Years. It was nice.

What was strange in the greater scheme of things was how a simple evening like this could turn out to have such significance in times to come. He socialized a lot that evening, talked to a number of people, but the person he conversed with the most was another recent hire, a woman named Caitlin Suh. There were a number of projects the postgrads in his department were working on, but she was working on the same one as him. He recalled now that he'd seen her around, even interacted with her a time or two, but she had just been another face among the other researchers there at the time. But talking with her was pleasant, and after they'd established what they had in common the conversation drifted on, as conversations are wont to do. "So how do you like Cambridge so far?" he asked.

"Well, so far I've been trying to prove wrong what everyone's said about the public transit and how confusing it can be." She smiled and sipped at her beer. "I'm not sure I'm winning, though."

He laughed. "Don't worry, it's not much better driving a car here," he said.

"It's mostly annoying how much time I spend cruising around on the bus," she said. "It feels like such a waste."

"There's something to be said for down time," he mused, and was about to continue, but she shook her head ruefully.

"Time on the bus is not down time," she said.

"No?" he said.

"No. It's nerve-wracking and it's loud. And it's not at all relaxing."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't be."

She offered him a small smile. "I'm sure your situation has its drawbacks as well."

It did, of course, and he told her about his daughter, and how she was in lessons and how busy he was keeping up with her schedule. And of course other topics were broached, and they parted that evening late, two of the last to go.

After that they seemed to run into each other more and more—the frequency illusion, he supposed. It started the Monday morning following the get-together, with something so simple as finding her next in line when he poured himself some coffee. "Hey," he said.

"Hello, Leonard," she said, pouring herself some coffee. "Can you pass me the creamer?"

He did so, and he stood back while she prepared her cup. He'd intended to head right back to his office but when she sat down at the table there in the lounge he decided to join her. "Have a good weekend?" he asked.

"Like every weekend," she said. "I got to rest and spend time doing nothing. Well, I did work a bit on some coding, but it's nice to be able to do that at my own leisure."

"I do the same thing," he admitted. "It makes up for the evenings I'd spend here otherwise."

After that? After that things just seemed to…escalate. It became a habit, meeting up in the morning for coffee, but eventually there came a day where she was going to be too busy and begged off, asking him if she could put him off until lunch.

"I don't usually remember to eat lunch," he admitted.

"Ah," she said. "I wondered."

"You mean you knew," he said.

"I suspected," she corrected with a suppressed smile. "Don't worry, I'll remind you."

And so they had yet another point of contact, as she kept her word. She didn't do it every day—she wasn't his babysitter, and he would have been annoyed if she had taken it on as a duty that faithfully. But it was just often enough…just often enough that he started remembering lunch on his own much of the time. He knew about what time she preferred to take hers, and being in the lounge at a time that coincided with it meant they could eat together.

So yes, it was strange how something as simple as a forgotten meal could change everything.

It was some weeks later when he had a day when he spent his morning entrenched in some coding, trying to solve a problem that was causing a recursion loop. Each time he tried the program again he was sure it would be the time he fixed it, but something just wasn't going right, and—

"Hey."

He turned his head—not exactly startled, but he hadn't been expecting anyone to come in either, so it wrenched him out of his concentration. "Hello, Caitlin," he said. He glanced back at his screen, looking for the time. "Looking out for me as usual?"

"You know how it is," she said. "Can't let you starve to death because you're too busy coding to eat."

"You're the only one who would notice when I wasted away, I think." He was a bit embarrassed by it sometimes, he thought, going by the flush he felt behind his ears and the back of his neck whenever this happened.

They went to the lounge, and they sat and ate, and they allowed the conversation to drift away from work onto other things—on this occasion, childhood memories dominated their talk, and they got coffee when they were done eating and lingered. When she eventually got up to return to her office, he followed her there. Caitlin didn't settle into her chair. She just cupped her mug with both hands, still talking. He watched her as she spoke—it was a bit different standing by as they conversed, rather than sitting across from her, because she was so much shorter. It was nice to be able to face her, too, because—well, being honest, she was really attractive, with her dark hair and dark brown eyes.

"Yeah," she said, continuing her thought. "I was about twelve when we went on that trip. It definitely helped get me interested in going into a career in the sciences. Though I thought it would be in the biological sciences at the time."

"That's a formative age," he said. "That wasn't long before we moved, when I was a kid. We didn't have many chances to take trips and do that sort of thing before that—we were pretty poor at the time." He moved from his stance facing her and leaned against her desk as she was doing, coming alongside her. As soon as he had, he lost his train of thought. His arm brushed hers and he realized she was cold. A strange urge came over him to set his mug down and curl his arm around her.

And that's when he realized it, though he also realized in the same moment that it was something he should have picked up a long time ago. They spent so much time together already, but he was always trying to find an excuse for there to be more.

"It was kind of silly, in a way," she was saying. "I was interested in the fish, but I was also afraid to touch them. But that was the point of going, so I learned to suck it up and make myself do it."

He looked down at his cup. "Caitlin?" he said.

"Yes?"

Foolish, the whole idea. He held his tongue for several moments, glancing over at her, before turning his head to face her. He was acting like a twelve-year-old. Felt like one, too. He was an adult, this shouldn't have taken him so by surprise. And he definitely shouldn't ask this question.

"Can I kiss you?" he said.

"Please," she said, speaking quietly. He had to lean down to press his lips against hers, and he saw her close her eyes as she raised her face toward his.

It wasn't like kissing Allison—though nothing was like kissing Allison, who was all passion and strength of will. This was just soft and pleasant, and she pressed into his lips just as he began to pull away.

"Sorry," he mumbled as they parted.

"Don't be," she said. "I think…that was a long time in coming."

"Do you?" It seemed he'd never interpreted his emotions in regards to her before now correctly. Was she right? He wasn't so sure about that part. But it certainly seemed it had been the right thing to do now.

"Would it be forward of me to ask you to dinner?" she said.

"Depends on where you want to go," he said.

She laughed. "The café outside the administration building," she said.

"Then you're not too forward at all," he said. "I'll have to arrange for someone to keep my daughter—that or we'll have to leave early."

"We can leave early."

They met at four, and walked to the café, and it was like…the world had opened up, like the sky was broader or something. They ate, and they talked, but they didn't touch again. He felt as though he should wait for her to signal that it was okay, somehow, and she didn't, so he kept his hands to himself. That seemed like the way to handle things.

After they ate she said something about checking the bus schedule, pulling her COM pad out. "I can drive you," he told her.

Something so simple as offering her a ride, something that would set a precedent for the future. He had to get Valerie to dance and gymnastics two times a week, but on the other three evenings he drove Caitlin home. If his schedule had been looser in the mornings he would have offered that too, but he had too much to do with getting Valerie off to school.

But the frequency of their physical contact was something else. She never initiated and so he rarely asked, but it seemed she relished it when he did. So it was a month after their first kiss when he chose to be more forward—as she had put it—and leaned in to kiss her unprompted when he dropped her off. She didn't protest, instead sliding a hand up to set on the side of his head, thumbing at his cheek.

He pulled away a little. "Is this okay?" he asked. She bit her lip and bumped her cheek against his. She was trying to hide it, but he had seen. She was blushing. "Hey," he said. "Listen."

"What?" she said.

He didn't answer, not verbally. He just pressed in for a kiss, a longer, deeper kiss than they had engaged in as of yet, and he put his arm around her shoulder. She smiled slightly when it was over, casting her eyes down for just a second.

"You don't have to be shy," he said. "Not with me."

"We're in a car," she said, as though that explained everything.

"What, you think everyone around us is looking?" he said. "No one cares."

"I care," she said.

Allison wouldn't have cared, he thought. These thoughts came unbidden at random times. He withdrew with a small frown. "Try not to," he said.

"Okay," she said, nonplussed. He knew it showed when he started comparing the two of them in his mind, and though she didn't know what it was, it was still unfair to her. At least that wasn't his default state of being. That would have made drawing close to her like this impossible.

It was four months after that first kiss when she initiated for the first time. He'd waited her out, knowing it would happen at some point. Something about it was so goddamn hot after waiting all this time, and he said it before he had a chance to think out the implications. "You want to come to my place?" he said, dragging his lips along the corner of her mouth. He nipped a little, knowing the silence that followed was a hesitation. "Please come," he whispered.

"Okay," she said. "What about your daughter?"

"You two need to meet anyway," he said.

"Yes," she said. "Do you intend for me to stay over?"

"I don't have any intentions," he said. "We'll do what you want to do."

There was a long pause, which he took advantage of, continuing to kiss at her jaw line. "I want to stay with you," she said finally, firmly but quietly.

"Okay," he said, finally pulling back to release her.

Caitlin packed a bag, and they drove to Valerie's after school program to pick her up. She saw Caitlin in the passenger seat and her look was carefully neutral as she approached the car. "Hey Dad," she said after she got in.

"Hello, Valerie. This is Caitlin," he said.

"Hey," Valerie said. She sounded disinterested, as though she'd just been introduced to an object, rather than a person.

"Hello, Valerie," Caitlin said, somewhat stiffly. It occurred to Leonard that he had no idea how much contact Caitlin had ever had with children. This would be interesting.

"How was your day?" Leonard asked, pulling the car out into traffic.

"Fine," Valerie said.

"Is there something you'd like to have for dinner, particularly?" he asked. "We can get takeout, if you want."

"No," Valerie said.

"Do you cook?" Caitlin asked.

"Whenever I can," Leonard replied. "But we eat more frozen meals than I'd like to admit to."

"I don't know the last time I ate something that was home cooked," Caitlin said. "Before I moved here, I suppose—I had a friend who liked to cook for get-togethers."

Leonard glanced over at Caitlin. "I think we have everything we need for spaghetti, if you're in the mood for Italian."

"That sounds nice," Caitlin said.

And it was, despite the fact that Valerie remained withdrawn as the meal was prepared. He and Caitlin were able to pleasantly converse in the meantime, though, sipping at some wine, and once the food was done he served up three plates and set them at the table.

"Come join us, Val," he called to where she sat on the couch. She heaved herself to her feet and sat down across from her father. She was holding a book, and she proceeded to read it, clutching it with one hand and eating forkfuls of spaghetti with the other. He didn't want to scold her and tell her that was rude in front of Caitlin, and she wouldn't have had much fun joining in their conversation anyway, so he let it slide.

Caitlin finished her wine before he did. He poured her another glass, and she angled herself a bit in her chair toward him, cupping the bowl of the glass in her hand, letting the stem dangle between her second and third fingers. God, it was so…just so good, this quiet evening with her here. And she was obviously very appreciative, which was also nice.

After her second glass she smiled at him and tipped the empty glass slightly in his direction. "You have good taste," she said. "This wine pairs really well with the pasta."

He'd been about to pour himself a second glass, but instead poured himself just a small amount and then held the mouth of the bottle in her direction, knowing that would finish off the bottle. "Do you want another?"

Valerie scoffed.

Leonard looked at her. He hadn't been aware that she'd been paying attention. Caitlin had responded merely by holding her glass toward him, and he removed his gaze from Valerie to begin to pour the wine.

"You didn't offer me any, Dad," Valerie said.

"Valerie, please," he said. "Don't be impertinent."

She rolled her eyes, returning her gaze to her book.

Caitlin took another drink of her wine. She was going a bit heavy-lidded, he noticed, and she propped her elbow on the table to rest her chin on her hand, nudging his hand with her other. "Mm," she said. "I'm going to pay for this tomorrow."

"Don't tell me you're a lightweight," he teased.

"Proudly," she replied with a rising laugh, touching her foot to his leg. "Saves me money."

He chuckled. She was talking a bit louder and as subtle as her touches were, they were unusual for her. "You ought to head to bed, Val," he said then.

"Fine," Valerie said, standing and snapping her book shut. "Good night."

"Good night," he said, and once Valerie's door closed he took Caitlin's hand and led her to his bedroom. They could talk some more but, well, there was no use in pretending. He curled his arms around her and bent his head to kiss her. She clutched at him, her breathing shallow. She was tipsy, he knew, but that was odd. "What's wrong?" he muttered.

She pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. "Just. Be gentle?"

Such a simple request—such broad implications. For a moment he didn't know how to respond. She seemed so self-possessed; it had always been something he'd taken for granted that she'd have experience in this area. "Yeah, okay," he said after a moment. "You don't have to worry." He kissed her again. "And you only have to do what you want to do."

She didn't answer, simply closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his neck.

"Don't worry," he repeated. "Can I undress you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

So he did, pulling her shirt and her pants off, then nudging her to lie down on the bed. Once she had, he tugged her panties off. She had nothing to worry about, he observed; she was soaked through—even her upper thighs were slick. She'd been anticipating this for a while, probably ever since she'd decided to pack that bag. Even so, he wanted to be sure she was fully prepared to accept him, and he bent to press his mouth to her labia. She let out a sound—not a moan, just a little hum, but it was a deliciously _wanting_ sound just the same. He teased her clit with his tongue, trying to get her worked up, trying to make her throb so that she felt fulfilled when he pressed into her.

She didn't let him get that far. "Leonard?" she said, her voice rising in pitch at the end as though she were stifling a moan.

He looked up at her. "Yes?"

"Now," she said. "God, now. Please."

So he got undressed, hurriedly, because he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him, and he put a condom on so he could come and join her. He found her entrance with his fingers; she was still making those sounds, those high little hums, and when he was sure she was opened up and ready, he lined himself up and slowly pushed in, watching to gauge her reaction. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she breathed through the sensation, letting out a reedy moan as he settled in on top of her.

He held there, waiting, prepared to start moving within her when it seemed she was ready. She let out a long sigh and opened her eyes. It wasn't obvious until she had, but they were welled up with tears.

"Hey," he muttered, nosing in along her hairline, kissing softly. "Am I hurting you?"

"No," she said. She let out a shuddery breath. "I'm just. Just happy."

"Okay." He kissed her and then started moving, keeping it slow, as much as he wanted to start snapping his hips and bury himself into her. Drawing it out for her like this was making things difficult. She was just watching him, though, simply responding to his motions, and sighing. God if she didn't—if she didn't speak up he was going to end up just doing things the way he liked, he was getting ramped up so high. "Caitlin," he grunted. "Can I go faster?"

"Oh God, please yes," she said. He amped up his rhythm, drawing another high-pitched sound out of her, and he only took that as encouragement to take control the way he wished. He went harder and faster yet, and she shut her eyes, biting her lip.

"Don't hold it in," he said. "Come on—"

She let out a high moan. Encouraged, he shifted his weight so he could get his hand between them and stroke her clit. She clutched at his arm. "Leonard—"

Was it his name on her lips? God, it had been _so long_ since he'd heard his own name uttered so lustfully, and he leaned his weight against her heavily as he started to come. She clutched at his arm and moaned.

When he was done he lowered himself onto her and kissed her, sliding his lips along her cheekbone. "Did you get off?"

"No," she said.

"Oh." He planted a deeper kiss on her lips. "Want me to eat you out? I want to get you off."

She rubbed her cheek. "I'm okay right now."

"If you say so," he said. She was looking up at him, as though examining his face. "What?" he said.

She shook her head and tucked her face into the crook of his neck.

"Hold on," he said. "Gotta go clean up."

She sighed and released him, but tucked herself right up against him again when he returned. He closed his eyes and he let himself feel warm and fulfilled and sleepy from the sex. She shifted against him, muttering his name, almost as though she was testing the sounds out on her tongue.

"What?" he mumbled sleepily.

She didn't reply, just tightened her grip around him and started kissing along his neck.

"Still horny?" he asked, opening his eyes.

She replied with a chuckle, and he realized from the sound of it that she was crying again. He put his hand on her chin and tilted her face back so he could see her. "Hey," he said. "Seriously, are you okay?"

She nodded, moving her arm so she could trace his jaw line with her fingers.

"What is it, then?" he said. "It's something. Don't tell me it's not."

"Oh, Leonard." She sighed.

"You'll feel better if you tell me," he said, bending his head to kiss her forehead.

She nodded and curled back up against him. He closed his eyes when the silence drew on. Well, it was up to her to speak up. He wasn't going to sit here and badger her about it all day.

It was three months later when she told him she loved him.

After that he invited her to move in.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Another You - Of Mice And Men  
_Leonard can't believe Allison's gone and doesn't feel he can fill that hole in his life with anyone else_

Dreaming With A Broken Heart - John Mayer  
_Allison's gone and he has to admit this fact to himself_

Only Time - Enya (Swiss American Federation Remix)  
_Time had softened Leonard's grief, though in the end he'd refused to let it_

Got To Get You Into My Life - The Beatles  
_Caitlin starts watching out for Leonard as an excuse to spend more time with him_

You Give Me Something - James Morrison  
_Leonard hesitates before asking Caitlin if he can kiss her_

Closer - Tegan and Sara  
_Leonard invites Caitlin to come over to his apartment_

I've Been Waiting - Matthew Sweet  
_Leonard lets their relationship blossom and eventually invites Caitlin to move in with him_


	35. Chapter 35

Caitlin cupped his face in her hand, humming out a slight laugh. "Len, come on. You're thinking about research again."

He opened his eyes, unable to keep from smiling at that. "I'm fantasizing," he said. "You and me in the lab—me pushing you back against the work station and pulling your shirt off." He reached up to trail a hand down the outer curve of her breast. "It'll happen one day."

"We're not going to have sex in the lab." She undulated her hips, riding him gently. "And that's not what you were thinking about."

He took her hand and kissed it. "All right. I'm sorry."

She smiled and laid down on him, tucking her head under his chin, and moved her hips faster.

He closed his eyes. It was true, his mind was wrapped up in a number of things. They'd had a talk, earlier that night, about what they wanted their goals to be for the future, and really, it was no surprise to find they were already on about the same page with things. In the field of artificial intelligence research there really was only one end goal, and that was being employed in the lab of Dr. Catherine Halsey. She was the head of the artificial intelligence department at the Office of Naval Intelligence, which was essentially the main intelligence branch of the UNSC. For people like Leonard and Caitlin the research they were doing at MIT was just a stepping stone in obtaining employment there—and this was no secret.

What they had needed to determine, then, was how to get noticed by ONI for their achievements. And that led to their decision to develop a research project together for presentation at the annual ONI conference. This would take time out of their busy schedules and lead to a lot of extra work, but it was well-known that having a successful presentation at the conference was likely to lead to an invitation to interview with ONI. It would take a year or two to have something ready but they were willing to put the effort in.

And he had his own goals as well, things he took secret and deliberate steps toward doing, and this would just add another layer of factors that would need attending to on a regular basis. It was—

Caitlin sat up again then. "Leonard," she said, taking both of his hands in hers.

"Mm…?" He opened his eyes and smiled lazily up at her. "I don't mean to be distracted."

"Intention doesn't matter, only results," she teased. Nevertheless, she smoothed her hand down his chest. "Do you just want to stop?"

"No." He ran his hands down her sides. "How about you turn over."

She smiled and bent down, touching her lips to his, and he held on to her long enough to press into the kiss before letting her draw herself up and pull away. He sat up as she turned, settling onto her hands and knees. "There, good," he said, trailing his nails down the curve of her hips, forward to where her torso narrowed at her waist. Then he scratched her lower back, causing her to keen and angle her hips toward him. He smiled. They were still experimenting together, still learning what she liked, but they had been returning to this position a lot. It was a lot of fun being her first, he'd found. Most of all she seemed to really like it when she could follow his suggestions, though he stopped short of giving orders. That wouldn't have set well with her, he didn't think.

The change in position had its desired result—he was more mindful of what they were doing as they rocked together, and soon enough he came, jerking against her. She slowly pulled away and lay down on her belly, sighing lightly. He pulled away to go clean up, then lay down beside her. "Here," he said, and tugged her to lie up against his chest. She rolled and did so, moving her hand to trail her fingers along his chest. She was quiet otherwise and he closed his eyes to allow himself to enjoy the silence.

She drew up closer, and he responded by tightening his grip on her. She muttered something—after a moment he realized it had been his name. "Mm?" he said.

She hummed out a little sigh. "I didn't finish."

"Ah," he replied, a slight smirk on his face. "My mouth or my hand?"

"I don't really like it when you use your mouth," she admitted slowly. "I like when you touch me."

He'd told her this before, but it appeared the repetition would be helpful. "Don't be afraid to tell me what you like, Cate."

"I know," she muttered. She took his hand and trailed it down her stomach. "Please?"

He turned onto his shoulder and brought his other hand to her mound, and he touched her, gliding his fingers within her and thumbing at her clit. She tended to grasp at his arm when she was close, and when she started to do so he moved his fingers more quickly. He breathed out an encouragement and ran his tongue around the shell of her ear. In return she gasped, and he felt her contracting around his fingers.

"Mm, there," he said, petting her gently before withdrawing his hand.

She breathed a sigh through her nose and tucked her head in the hollow beside his neck. She was shifting a little, drawing closer, nosing in next to his skin. He recognized this. She wasn't very demonstrative usually, but when she was feeling affectionate she would become a bit more emotional—more than once when they were snuggling like this after sex she had told him she loved him. That was how it had happened the first time, actually. It had been some time since she had moved in and he'd never said it back. He didn't feel it was appropriate when he wasn't quite sure he felt the same way. Still, it had been about a year since they'd met, and…

He closed his eyes and took inventory. What would he do if she said it now? It danced on the end of his tongue. Maybe he'd say it first. He might. He would—

"I love you, Caitlin," he muttered before he had more of a chance to convince himself otherwise.

There was a sharp intake of breath. She didn't respond in kind, only clutched at him and kissed at his neck. He rolled onto her, finding he was becoming hard again.

The second time was more passionate than the first, almost frantic somehow. He hadn't known if he'd ever say that to her—she was a lovely person, and good for him, he knew, but he'd never known if his emotions would ever quite reach those heights. Apparently they had, and the two of them were drifting on the euphoria of it now, of sharing these feelings.

When their lovemaking was through, they lay panting and smoothing their hands over one another's skin. "Let's go get in the shower," he said.

"Okay," she agreed, and they rose to put on their robes and grab some towels and head to the bathroom. They stripped and entered the water together. God, what a thought. They had these plans for their research and he had come to love her and he could barely understand. It was…it was life. Life being lived and moving on and he smiled at her and brought up their research again—somehow that had become wrapped up in this whole thing. They talked about it as they washed up, and as they headed to bed, and as they turned out the light. He was mumbling about it even as she drifted off to sleep. When he ceased getting responses, he turned over and went to sleep.

* * *

The next morning Leonard awoke to the alarm. Caitlin turned the alarm off and rolled to face him.

"Good morning," she said, stretching lightly.

"Good morning," he replied, and kissed her before turning to get up out of bed. Getting dressed, preparing breakfast, serving it to his girlfriend and his daughter—it was all so good. Life was good.

Out the window the morning was clear and bright. It was early autumn there in Massachusetts, and it was Rosh Hashanah that evening. "We're going to pick you up from school today, remember," he said to Valerie. "Do you want to walk there or get dropped off?"

"Walk," she said. "Are you both picking me up?"

"Of course," he said. "We have service in the evening, remember."

"Yeah," she said. She frowned. "Caitlin doesn't have to come if she doesn't want to."

"Who said I don't want to?" Caitlin said. "I've come to services with you two before."

"Yeah, but…" Valerie glanced at her. "You don't have to, that's all."

"Valerie," Leonard said. He had a feeling he knew what she was getting at and he didn't like it. "I suggest if you have a _problem_, you be straightforward with your meaning."

"She doesn't want to convert," she said.

"Okay, Valerie," he said. "Enlighten me. What difference does that make?"

"I just don't want her coming," Valerie said. "I don't _want_ her to."

"The fact that you're not offering me any reasoning, Valerie, tells me you know you don't have a leg to stand on on this," he said. "Perhaps you should consider whether you want to go at all."

"You wouldn't do that," she said.

"Test me, Valerie," he said. "I _believe_ you should consider if these teachings are important to you what they teach you about this situation."

She frowned, looking down.

"Look at me and tell me whether I'm being clear, Valerie," he said.

She did so, sullen. "You're clear."

"Remember it," he said.

The rest of breakfast was eaten in silence and once Valerie had left to walk to school, Caitlin and Leonard went out and got in the car. It was characteristic of Caitlin that she didn't address what had happened, instead picking up the thread from last night about their research. Leonard was glad. There was nothing to be gained from discussing the fact that Valerie still didn't like Caitlin. It was obvious, and as far as he thought, there was nothing that would fix that but time. They worked out of separate offices at the university, so when they arrived they split off and Leonard went down the hall.

His office was dark and locked. He happened to share his office with the department head, Dr. Stephen Hutchinson, and Leonard knew the following few days were difficult ones for him. The anniversary of the attack on Harvest, the very incident that had started this war, took place the next day, and Steve had lost his twin brother in the attack. Perhaps…perhaps Steve planned not to come in today, as well as tomorrow? Leonard opened the door and turned on the light. He watched for opportunities like this one, because a number of the operations on his agenda for obtaining Allison's brain scan were—

He suddenly felt as though he'd been punched in the chest. _Allison_. Engaging in this relationship with Caitlin had never impacted his goals as far as getting a hold of that disc and he was careful to recite his agenda to himself whenever there was a quiet moment—typically whenever he had occasion to drive somewhere alone, and when he was lying still in bed waiting for sleep to overcome him. And last night, he'd forgotten. He sat down, trembling, in his chair. _He'd forgotten._ He'd been happy, and he'd forgotten. He'd been…he'd been in love, and _he'd forgotten._

He ought to end things with Caitlin, he thought wildly. He ought to go back to being single and devote more of his attention to those things that reminded him of Allison and their life together, back in the before times, when they'd been young and life had been simple. Back in the times when he'd been happy and carefree and so in love.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? He had admitted it last night, both to himself and to Caitlin. He was in love again. He was…happy again.

Was he?

Of course. It was only natural, he told himself. He was playing a long game and things were going to take time, and he knew this sequence of events intimately. Happy moments with Caitlin might sometimes distract him, but he only needed to spend extra time on his preparations later on to make up for that fact. He passed his hands over his face. Okay. He could do this. He needed to get his work done for the day in order to avoid any suspicion, but then he could use the professor's computer to work on studying the inner workings of the system's code. He couldn't create the files he needed without knowing where in the system they were going to execute.

All right. All right then, all right. One last deep breath, scrubbing his hands over his hair, and he started the morning checks to log into the system and get everything active for his research. In a bit he needed to move to the lab and get some work done, and after he ate lunch with Caitlin he should be able to sneak onto Steve's computer and spend maybe half an hour on there. It was all he could risk.

She was already in the lounge when he arrived for lunch later on and he got his container of food and settled down beside her, greeting her with the barest of nods.

"You remembered to eat today," she said, smiling, with a little nudge at his leg with her foot.

The reminder of how they had come together was, on this day, not at all welcome and his expression was neutral as he looked down at his food. "We'll be having dinner late," he said.

"True," she said. A pause while she allowed a short silence to hang. "I was thinking about that paper," she said.

"I was not," he said. "We shouldn't discuss it at work."

"No," she said slowly. "You're right."

"Later," he said, not looking at her. "We'll talk about it. Just later."

"Of course." She ate the last few bites of her meal and got up. "I'll see you then."

"All right." He didn't watch her go, working instead on finishing his own meal.

He arose when he was done and threw his container away. It was time now. He returned to his office and did just as he'd planned, firing up the professor's computer and logging into the back workings of the system code. This was a delicate thing—he'd actually stolen Steve's credentials to be able to do this and so it was no small matter. There were millions of lines of code to peruse and there were blocks of it that Leonard would literally have to memorize to prepare what he needed to prepare. His full concentration was on reciting a particular line to himself when his COM pad alerted him to an incoming call. He nudged the device over to look at it and learned that it was Valerie's school.

Great. He couldn't afford to leave this system logged in the way it was long enough to take a phone call—what if someone should walk in? So he went to the effort of logging back out and changing seats before calling them back.

* * *

He hadn't expected what he learned during that phone call to lead to him signing Valerie out of school under suspension, but here they were. As they exited the building Valerie tried to hang back behind him, trailing him as they left through the front doors. "Valerie," he said sharply, turning his head to view her. "Keep up."

She sped in her steps, drawing up to his side, and walked along with him until they reached the car. Instead of getting in, he stood in front of it and faced her. "You have no excuse for what you did today," he said.

She didn't cross her arms—she knew better, apparently—but she did avoid his gaze when she responded. "I was just angry," she said.

"Stand up straight and look at me when you talk," Leonard said, pointing a finger up at his face. "Right now I know you know what you did was inexcusable, because you would have told me to my face instead of to my shirt buttons."

Valerie looked up at her father, squinting slightly against the sunlight.

"You do _not_ curse at a teacher, Valerie Leanne," Leonard said.

"You let me curse," she said.

"That does _not_ have _anything_ to do with this situation," Leonard said. "You know there's a time and a place for swearing."

"I only did it because Mom told me not to let people bully me," she said. "She told me—"

"You have a lot of _gall_ if you're trying to tell me your mother would have approved of your actions," Leonard said. His volume was increasing with every reply he made and this time he spoke more forcefully, causing Valerie to frown and look away again.

"I wanted him to stop talking about the war," she said. "He wouldn't listen to me when I asked him to. It wasn't even a part of the lesson."

"You should have excused yourself when he started upsetting you that badly. You would be in less trouble if you'd simply left," he said. "Now I'm going to have to find someone to watch you for the next three days. And _you_ are going to be on restriction."

"I know," she mumbled.

"Now come on. We have to go pick up Caitlin from the university before the service begins," he said.

Valerie sighed and rolled her eyes—apparently thinking she had kept it subtle, but Leonard was highly attuned to her reactions at this moment.

"You are on _thin ice_, Ms. Church," Leonard said sharply.

Valerie stopped in place, frowning, and then looked at him.

"That better be the end of this, Valerie," Leonard said darkly. "The end of any misbehavior, the end of any back talk, and the _end _of your insubordination toward Caitlin. As far as you are concerned she has parental authority over you now and you are to respect her."

Valerie nodded and turned away as if about to get in the car.

"Valerie, you are not walking away from this conversation without acknowledging me," Leonard said.

Valerie turned toward him. "Yeah, okay," she said.

"That is _not_ how you are to address me," Leonard said. "Look at me and acknowledge what I said."

Valerie looked up at her father. Her countenance was carefully and guardedly blank. "Yes, sir."

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Lie In The Sound - Trespassers William  
_Caitlin fell for Leonard before he fell in love with her_

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol  
_Leonard finds he's able to release his worries with Caitlin around, at least for a time_

On The Radio - Regina Spektor _Leonard didn't mean to fall in love again, and he finds balancing himself in the relationship is difficult_


	36. Chapter 36

Valerie ran down the length of the gym, vaulting effortlessly, but over-rotated and failed to stick the landing.

Leonard barely noticed. His mind was far from here. It was on the work he had done earlier that day, at the university. He'd been taking care of some last-minute details in his plans that day. Everything was right on schedule, he thought. Of course, it was less a schedule and more an agenda—each step on the way required the completion of some other. It seemed unbelievable, but he was fairly certain everything was ready. And it had been very good timing that it had. He'd been biding his time over the last couple of years, and very soon, he could make his move. He could get Allison's disc. There were a few opportunities upcoming, and he could choose any one of them.

"Leonard," said Valerie.

He blinked away his distraction and looked at her. She didn't call him by his name all the time—only when he wasn't paying attention and she couldn't get his attention otherwise. It had started long ago, when he'd first been grieving, and he had never done much to discourage it. "Yes?" he said.

She settled in next to him as many of the other parents and students rose and started milling about. "Mahala wants to know if I can stay the night."

"Not tonight," he said. "It's a school night, Valerie."

"You've let me before," she said. "Come on."

"Those were special circumstances," he said. "Let's go now. You can stay on the weekend."

And so they headed home. Valerie talked a bit about how she had done at practice that night, which she often did, but he was hard-pressed to pay attention and she soon stopped talking. When they arrived at the apartment, he told Caitlin to order dinner and went to the office to shut himself in there. There were just a few more details he had to coordinate here at home and it would be easy to put Caitlin off if he needed to by telling her he was journaling—a little white lie he had come up with as a cover-up for the extra work he did without her. A man had to have his private life, after all.

"Dinner's here," Caitlin reported after a while, poking her head into the office after a quick rap on the door.

Valerie was sitting at the table with her bowl of curry. "Hey," she said when he sat down across from her. "Glad you could join us."

"I wasn't called until now," he said. "Glad to see you didn't let missing me get in the way of your appetite."

She poked her fork in his direction. "Hey, I didn't know when you'd be getting back from Eastern Europe."

He smiled at her wryly. "I…don't think you set that one up the way you wanted to," he said.

"Sure I did. You say, 'I wasn't in Eastern Europe,' and I say, 'I thought you were Hungary,' and you say 'I'm not Hungary,' and I ask for your food."

He was laughing. "You're a Turkey," he said. "How do you like that one?"

"Too easy," she said dismissively. "Even Caitlin would tell you that."

"Val," he said, clucking his tongue.

Caitlin set his bowl in front of him, then sat on the third side of the table with hers. "It was too easy," she said.

"Ha," Valerie said. "Told ya."

He laughed again. "All right, fine then. If you're going to get Caitlin involved I guess I know I'm outnumbered."

Valerie was grinning. "I didn't get Caitlin involved. She came from Kingston."

He raised his eyebrow, puzzled at that one. "Jamaica?"

"No, I told you, she did it on her own." Valerie laughed. "I can't believe you didn't catch that one."

He chuckled ruefully. "I thought of it when I was saying it. Just a nanosecond too late."

"A likely story," Caitlin said, poking her fork into her food.

"It's the story I'm telling," Leonard said.

Valerie smiled, apparently pleased with herself. "I'd go to Alaska next but, Juneau."

"That's enough," Caitlin said.

Valerie frowned at her, then looked at her father.

"Eat your food, Val," Leonard said.

"Oh whatever," she muttered.

They lapsed into silence as they ate, not picking up any avenue of conversation after that rather abrupt end. In times past Leonard might have done his best to smooth things over between the others, but this just gave him an excuse to get back into his own head. He had a few possibilities of when he could carry his plans out, but really, there was no reason to put it off. Tomorrow was the first best opportunity. Yes, he thought. It was time.

"Leonard," Caitlin said rather insistently.

He looked at her.

"That was not a yes-or-no question," she said.

He became dimly aware that she had been talking, and that he'd been grunting out little 'mm-hmm' answers whenever she paused. He'd been doing it unconsciously, wrapped up in his own thoughts.

"I asked what you want to do about the new tables we need to draw for the presentation," she said.

"I don't know. I don't want to think about it right now," he said. He wanted to think about the timetable, about what time he should arrive at the university the next day. Too early and it would look unusual. Too late, and—

Caitlin frowned. "You just said we should talk it out now," she said.

"I wasn't paying attention," he grumbled. "We'll think about it later."

"We only have two weeks before we're presenting," she said. "I want to sit down and—"

"Not now," he said.

"When, then?" she said. "You know we have plans in the evenings for the next few—"

"I said _not now_, Caitlin," he said.

"I need something more concrete than that," Caitlin said.

He felt a twinge of annoyance. Okay, he'd throw her a bone. "Saturday," he said. "We'll sit down and spend a chunk of time on it."

"You said we'd go shopping Saturday," Valerie complained.

"We're not going to spend the whole day shopping, Valerie," he said impatiently. Damn it, it…it wasn't their fault, but he just wanted to concentrate on this. He had less than twenty-four hours if he went through with it and since he'd just made the decision to go through with it that meant he had a lot to sort out in his head. He stood and pushed his half-finished container of curry back. "Valerie, clear the table."

"But I'm not done eating," she complained.

"Don't talk back," he snapped. He turned to go back to the office. "I'm going to be busy. Don't bother me."

He left the room and went back into the office. He ran his hands over his hair. He hadn't meant to have an outburst but the pressure of this was getting to him. It wasn't true that he was on time. He'd been trying to convince himself of that earlier but no, no. He'd waited so long, letting his affection for Caitlin get in the way, and now he'd squeezed himself. After two years of working on their paper they were going to be presenting at the ONI conference, and they were expecting to receive invitations to interview not long after. So he could be just a few months away from a job change, a job he was determined to get, and here he'd continued to put this off.

This wasn't just his first chance to get Allison's brain scan. This was his last chance to get Allison's brain scan. This had to work or it would all be a waste.

Now he felt restless, but what could he do? He'd waited out the last three years and now it came down to the last twelve or so hours. And all he could do was wait and let the cogs he'd already put into place turn.

Caitlin came to join him in the office later on, sitting down at her desk to work on something, and he stayed in his own office chair and did his best to look like he was working as well. He was listless, though, and when it finally came time for bed he slept fitfully. He kept waking up, looking at the time. It was dark. So dark.

Eventually he pushed himself back, propping his head up on the pillow. Caitlin was still asleep beside him, as she should be. It was an hour before they usually got up. At first he considered remaining here, but he didn't want to fall back asleep. So he pulled the blanket back and arose, smoothing the covers back down and quietly making his way to the bathroom.

The first year had been the worst. That's what he told his reflection as he stared into it, into his own eyes. Remember that first year? How impossible it seemed to live without her, how difficult it seemed to be just to draw breath? Left without his greatest love, his very reason for living?

Yes, he remembered.

He grabbed his razor, barely paying attention as he shaved. From the moment he'd realized he could come this close to regaining something of Allison, he'd fought tooth and nail for it. The presence of Caitlin in his life had changed a lot of things, but it didn't change this one. He still grieved; he would never not grieve. Sometimes it felt like it was completely soaked into his bones. He was in love with another woman now, which in a measure meant life had moved on, but sometimes it felt like a betrayal, too.

He had finished shaving by rote; once he realized he was done he rinsed. He felt his heart in his throat; his loyalty to Allison struggled against his devotion to Caitlin. But they weren't mutually exclusive, they weren't. If they had been, Caitlin would have been out of his life a long time ago. He couldn't be of two minds about this. He needed to get things together here. After all, he had a goal for the day and being distracted—feeling guilty—wasn't going to help.

He lowered the angle of his brow—now he was glaring at himself in the mirror, daring himself to wimp out on this. God, he just…fucking needed to stop letting himself lose sight of what he had planned here.

But Caitlin was just on the other side of the apartment, lying in his bed. And as he continued to prepare to leave the apartment, brushing his hair and his teeth, the thought kept returning: He still had the chance to turn back. He could slip back into bed with Caitlin, and she would roll over and caress him, and he would kiss her and tell her he would never leave. He could completely give himself over to this new life with her.

He set his toothbrush down and scrubbed his hands against the back of his neck. He had waited so long, manipulated so many details, long years of steering everything toward this one goal. How could he give it up now? Besides, he simply could not stand the idea of the contents of her mind sitting in an archive room on a disc, untouched and unutilized for years on end. If anything, she was his property; certainly she did not belong to the government, the faceless entity that had sent her off to her death.

All right. The final decision had been made. He calmed himself, and moved out of the bathroom. He got dressed. Now all that was left was to wait for Caitlin to awaken and get ready. They would arrive at the usual time. He had decided last night it would be too strange to tell her he wanted to go in early—she would want to know why.

He remained withdrawn at breakfast and during the ride to the university. Caitlin, meek as she was, didn't question him. Everything he'd been planning for the last four years was about to come to fruition, he told himself. He was going to take it—he was going to take _her_, take that disc that was truly his in a way no one else could possibly appreciate.

Driving there? It took forever. His mind was filled with everything he had done to prepare. He had known it was important to cover his tracks and he couldn't rush the creation—or execution—of his plan.

There were several factors he had needed to account for. First was the fact that every one of the archive discs was inventoried in the computer system and any changes were documented by a keystroke logging system. Second, the disc casings all contained tracking chips. Third, there were military security guards and surveillance cameras working around the clock to ensure the proper care of the government property stored there.

With the use of Steve's credentials he had been able to, over time, insert crucial lines in the system code. He had created two object files—files that contained chunks of executable code that the system would insert on command. One of the objects could completely delete an archival record, and the other could replace the last several entries in the keylogging system.

Today, October 7th, was the anniversary of the attack on Harvest. As was the case the previous two years, he knew Steve was unlikely to come in today. It made Leonard feel kind of sick every time, using the distraction of a day of grief, but he did not dwell on his guilt for long. His own days of grief had been many…far too many.

When they arrived, Caitlin went to her office. Leonard was pleased to find that his office was dark and locked. That confirmed that the professor meant not to come in that day, and none of the graduate students had yet arrived to do any work in the lab.

Leonard puttered around inside the office until the security guard passed by on his rounds and then sat down at the professor's terminal in the office and logged in. He wasted no time, striking in the command to activate the object that could delete one archival record. He punched in the correct record number in the query line and turned off the screen.

This was the most sensitive part of his plan. He had to hope no one would step into his office to use the computer for any reason, or the whole thing would be over. He stepped up to the door of the lab with his briefcase, his heart beating wildly. He entered the storage room in the back of the lab and pulled out the archive. He had held a thousand of these archives in the past, but this one he touched reverently before setting it in the bottom of his briefcase. Then he pulled out another and set it on top.

Next he did what appeared to be what usually happened when someone pulled archive discs, sitting down at a terminal in the lab. The surveillance camera swept from one end of the room to the other on an automatic rotation. He set the treasured archive in his lap when the camera had swept away from him and sat at just the right angle to keep it from being seen there. He pushed the case of the other into the drive.

He had carefully timed this. Each time the camera swept away from him he worked on prying open the case in his lap to remove the tracking chip. He needed to break it before he left the lab; even though the record that pointed to the chip had been deleted, the chip would still set off the alarm if he left the lab with it. When the camera began to sweep back he worked on the files that were on the screen. Finally he had broken the chip out of the case and he snapped it back together. He had to work fast now; the guard was likely to come pacing back through at any moment. He put the archives back in his briefcase and carried it to the storage room again. He replaced the archive he had used as his ruse and walked back into the lab.

This was the last step in putting on a show for the cameras. As it swept toward him he fumbled with various papers inside as though he were looking for something. When it swept away he grasped the small tracking chip that he had concealed in his palm with a pair of nylon pliers that was hidden in the briefcase and crushed it. The splinters fell into the briefcase and he strode confidently back to his office.

He fussed with paperwork that was lying on the desk until the next round made by the guard was through. Then he turned the computer screen back on and executed the second object. This deleted both of the lines of code that pointed to the incriminating object files and then overwrote the last 2 lines of keylogging with mundane queries. He hard deleted the object files and logged out.

He was amazed how calm he felt. He had expected to be shaking from nerves by the time he got to this stage, but he was experiencing a rush of euphoria. All that he had to do was leave. He picked up his briefcase with unruffled calm and waved to the guard who was stationed outside the department door as he walked by.

Everything had gone according to plan. It had all gone off without a hitch, and as he drove back to the apartment he couldn't help but laugh, throwing his head back in complete elation.

When he arrived at home he went into his office and shut the door. He pulled out the disc case inside the archive file and with trembling hands looked at the label. On the label was written:

_UNSC MCSF Holographic Scan  
Archive #2525-13-09/96743C  
CHURCH, Allison Elizabeth_

**End Part I**

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Terra Aria - Giovanni Sollima  
_Leonard grieves for Allison's loss, keeping his attempt to resurrect her from Caitlin_


	37. Chapter 37

**Part II: Dark Night**

It was another nightmare.

In the darkness Caitlin woke as Leonard began to thrash and whimper. Once again the sounds he uttered would grow in intensity until the nightmare ended; once again she would reach out to comfort him as he wept.

She had learned long ago not to wake him in the middle of a nightmare. The dreams would continue as soon as he drifted off to sleep if she did that. No, Caitlin was resigned to wait so that some time could pass without the specters that came and haunted his mind.

The precedent had been set long ago now, during their very first night together. He hadn't said a word about his nightmares beforehand. She just awakened to the sound of him reacting to it, and lay there, not knowing what to do. But it didn't take long before he started awake, the name 'Allison' on his lips. She didn't know what it meant, but she did know he needed comfort—the details could come later. So she sat up next to him, wrapped her arms around him, and let him cry.

When they first met, three years ago now, she hadn't thought much about him. She had her work and her goals and her coworkers were incidental parts of her life. But then came that first time they conversed, the day she noticed him, really _noticed_ him, and she felt her heart race. He was tall and lanky, with black hair, and had a determined look, a certain seriousness in his gaze, even as they talked of pleasant things. After that, the moments they spent together in the lab or in the lounge became more precious. But she tried not to think too much about it. She had no time for silly crushes, for flirting glances. At least that was what she had told herself over and over, even though she couldn't deny her attraction to him.

The day when he had finally kissed her was etched indelibly in her mind. It hadn't been the first occasion when she had stood beside him, wishing for it, hoping for it, but not daring to make any advances of her own. But that was the day that the chemistry between them changed. A simple touch meant so much more, little glances that made her hands tremble. He had unwittingly won her heart with his intensity and diligence. And soon she learned that he had come to love her as well, for her serenity and controlled, thoughtful demeanor. She was a good balance for him.

But as their relationship blossomed, she learned that he wasn't so strong as she had first supposed. The terror in his voice when he cried out in the darkness, the panic in which he awakened, was distressing to her beyond what she had been able to imagine. And that look in his eye? It was because of the memories that haunted him so doggedly.

She wondered now if that was why she had been drawn to him in the first place. They were both victims of tragedy. In her case, she had lost her father when the Covenant attacked Chi Ceti IV. Officially her father was not listed as a casualty of the battle, but he had suffered a heart attack after he was evacuated from the UNSC facility there. Something about that sorrowful look in Leonard's eyes had called out to her. That maturity that she had seen in him, that look in his eyes that had drawn her in so completely, was matched in herself as the knowledge of what it was to lose someone so deeply.

Leonard had never told her much about his dreams. She knew little—just that Allison had been his bride and the mother of his child. Caitlin could only suppose that the nightmares were about her death. It seemed far too painful for him to describe them; he never had, and Caitlin wasn't one to pry. She knew how much it hurt, even if she didn't know what sort of visions he endured.

Over the last couple of years the dreams had become more occasional—he even went for stretches without experiencing one at all—but lately they had increased again. She didn't know why, but what she did know was that Leonard needed her when he awoke; he relied on her for comfort when the dreams came. And that was enough for her.

He had begun to moan. It was almost over now. She waited, eyes open, waited for the cry that soon would tear itself from his throat. She gripped the edge of the mattress in anticipation.

Leonard shot upright. "_Allison_!" he gasped out.

Caitlin sat up next to him and slipped her arms around his shoulders from behind. "It's all right, sweetie, it's over now." She rested her temple on his hair. He was shuddering. She clung to him, trying to somehow absorb all of his pain, to take it upon herself, through their contacted skin.

"I'm here, Len," she whispered, leaning to deliver the words in his ear. "I'm always here for you."

* * *

After a time, Leonard's tears eased and he leaned back into her embrace. "Thank you, Cate," he murmured.

She tugged him gently back and they both lay down again. She stroked his hairline with her fingertips, leaning in to snuggle against his shoulder and press gentle kisses to his collarbone. He closed his eyes, grateful for her touch.

"Feel better now?" she breathed.

"I'm fine," he murmured. "Thanks." He meant it, but he hoped that would be the only inquiry she would make. She had started trying to coax him to open up to her about the dreams. She didn't question him openly about them, but he was getting tired of this dance.

After a few moments of silence, Caitlin hummed out a little sigh. "Len..."

"Shh." He put a finger momentarily on her lips, tightening the arm that was encircling her shoulder to pull her closer.

She audibly hesitated as she allowed herself to be drawn closer. "Ar—are you all right now?"

"Mm-hmm." He nestled his chin on the top of her head.

She stroked once down his arm with the backs of her fingers. "Are you going to go back to sleep?"

He didn't know why she ever bothered asking. He always told her he would, even when they both knew he wouldn't. "Yeah." He could tell from the way her fingers fluttered against his chest that she still wanted to talk. He kept his eyes closed, slowing his breathing as though he were falling asleep.

Suddenly she lifted her head from his shoulder. "You know, this has been happening more often—"

"Stop, Cate." A pang of regret made him cringe. He knew if she persisted he would spill the whole story, tell her why the nightmares had returned, and that was something he just couldn't allow. "Please."

There was another moment's pause. "It didn't used to be this bad…" Her disappointment was audible in her voice. She cared so much.

"You know, to tell you the truth… I don't want them to stop." He sighed, sensing her shock from the way her body twitched against him.

He also knew the incredulous look she must have on her face, judging from her tone. "Why?"

He lay flat on his back again, turning his face to stare out into the darkness of the room. "I don't know, it's just… If I forget, maybe…maybe I won't be the same person anymore." The words were a realization to him even as they escaped his mouth and he blinked back the prickling feeling behind his eyelids.

"You'll never forget her, Len." She drew her face closer to his neck to nuzzle him. "I think you should consider what I've said about grief counseling."

He had to swallow back the sudden rise in his temper to keep from snapping at her. He tried to keep his tone even, but his exasperation showed. "Cate, we've been over this! I'm not going!"

Caitlin nodded, and he felt the skin of her cheek softly brushing against his shoulder. He also felt moisture. He experienced a wave of guilt as he heard her breathing more deeply—she was crying. But neither of them spoke again and after a bit she had fallen asleep.

It was so easy for her to drift off, but it had been weeks since Leonard had fallen asleep except when utterly exhausted. But it hadn't always been this way. It had been five years since he'd lost her, after all. He had experienced nightmares this intense after Allison's death, but until recently the memories had faded, softened by the hand of time. Life had marched on, and despite his reasons for going after this job, he had begun to build a life with another woman. He had found it difficult to give himself permission to fall in love again. But if it was going to happen, it seemed like this was the woman that it should happen with. She was a good anchor for him. She knew just how to calm him down when he was raging, knew how to comfort him when he was grieving; best of all, she had never pried into the darker parts of his mind.

After he fell in love with Caitlin the time he spent working on his plan to obtain Allison's brain scan became less and less. He had even idly contemplated dropping the whole venture altogether. But when he truly considered that, it struck dread into his heart. He loved Caitlin, of course he did, but he couldn't just let Allison go. Ultimately, her death was his fault. And the pain of that was still so raw, even if he had begun to heal from the loss. She'd only enlisted because he had lied to her, that first time they'd been together. But instead of apologizing he waited for her to atone for cheating on him instead. He should not have waited on her to make the first move. His offense had been first, even if hers had been the greater. And he knew that if he had not been so stubborn none of this would have happened. She would still be here for him to cherish and protect. It had been his failure to treat her right that had eventually led to her death.

The execution of his plan to steal her disc had brought a catharsis of the pain he had held onto for those five years. But what he hadn't counted on was the way the nightmares would return in the two weeks since he had finally completed his mission. Instead of bringing him joy the way he had expected, it brought more darkness into his heart than ever. Because what good was it to possess that archive if he couldn't figure out what to do with it? No one had yet made the discovery of how to turn a holo-scanned brain into an AI. There was no doubt in his mind that it was somehow possible, despite the assertions of some that it was a lost cause. And when the paradox had been solved, he would have Allison—well, an AI created from Allison's mind. He knew better than to think that if he activated it that it would resurrect her. The AI would be a computer program, a mind of its own that happened to store Allison's memories inside it, and nothing more.

Now his own memories had begun to assault him again in the night watches. Strangely, he felt grateful that they had—they were a part of his identity somehow, and he had been loath to let them go. But the images were overwhelming him as they had not done since Allison's death.

The worst memory of all was the remembrance of the two somber men who came to tell him that she had died. He thought that the worst day of his life had already passed by the time the Marine Corps officers had showed up at his door; he knew what they were there to tell him. As the men began to speak, he determined that he would accept the news stoically. But nothing he had endured before that moment matched the outpouring of grief that overwhelmed him after. The sounds he made then had seemed almost inhuman and he remembered that as he had wailed he felt both immersed in the pain of it and yet strangely detached, as though he were a bystander watching his figure weeping from somewhere far away.

His nightmares had always been based on his memories of her. But since he had done this thing, since he had made good on his long-deferred plot, he had been experiencing a new nightmare.

He was on a warship, steel gray and huge, but he was sitting at one of the computer terminals from the AI lab. And she was there. She was talking about his research as she stood there in her uniform—as she always did, asking why he hadn't made a breakthrough, and if he didn't see how important it was for them that he find the solution—but he was trying desperately to find the solution as she spoke, calculations and algorithms scrolling by on the screen, somehow knowing that if he did not find the answer _right now_ she would be killed before his very eyes; then came a terrible sound, the rumbling of cannons and mortars, and now he was frantically modeling, rendering the 3-D map of his latest calculations, but the model was building slowly, much too slowly; and then the ship was burning, and he saw that she was slipping away, and as he grasped for her hand the model on the screen was almost finished, but now she lay dead, she lay dead far across the yawning cavern of the ship—oh, not again, why was he forced to see that image over and over—and he screamed her name.

Whatever had happened, the nightmare always ended when he screamed her name, but the worst part was the nightmare never ended because she was gone. She had really died in that battle, and on that night…

…on that night, his waking nightmare had only begun.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Heaven Help My Heart - Chess Official Broadway Cast Recording  
_Cailtin fell in love with Leonard very early on in their relationship. She bares more of herself to him than he's been willing toshow to her._

Sway - Bic Runga  
_Caitlin sees the way Leonard wavers between her and a memory and she wishes she would just stay with her instead of going tothose dark places in his mind_

Broken - Seether  
_Caitlin tries to be what Leonard needs to let go of his pain and his past_

Dreaming Wide Awake – Poets of the Fall  
_Leonard's denial runs deep, and he can only think of what he would have if Allison had never died._

Moonlight Sonata - Ludwig van Beethoven  
_Allison's death is always there for Leonard, like a sad melody that plays in the background_


	38. Chapter 38

When Caitlin woke up again, the sun was starting to peek up over the horizon and tinge the windows with a diffuse glow. Leonard was already gone, and she arose, pulling on her robe and combing her fingers leisurely through her hair.

She wandered out into the kitchen, idly hoping to find him there, but of course he wasn't. Instead, his daughter sat at the table, slowly making her way through a bowl of cereal. Without a word to her Caitlin lifted the coffee carafe and peeked into the filter basket, noting that Leonard had already drunk 4 or 5 cups of the stuff. He must be in their home office, polishing up his part of their presentation. The following day was the day they were going to be presenting their joint research project at the ONI conference. Since his nightmares had returned he had been waiting after she fell asleep afterward to get up and do research. He must have done it again, despite telling her that he was going to go back to sleep.

She glanced at the office door. Leonard had a tendency to get completely absorbed in a project, eschewing all other obligations until his work was done, even meals. But surely, she thought, she would be able to convince him to take the time this morning to sit down to breakfast with her. He needed to get out of his head for a while and relax, or at least _she_ needed him to.

"He doesn't want anybody talking to him," Valerie announced without prompting.

"If he told you that he must be willing to talk a little," Caitlin said.

Valerie raised an eyebrow. "I know my dad," she said. '_And you don't'_ seemed to be implied in that statement. "He's in a bad mood."

"Well," Caitlin said. "Maybe I can talk him into being in a good mood."

"Good luck with that," Valerie said flatly.

Caitlin avoided letting the girl see her roll her eyes, turning to walk over to the office door and push it open. "Len?"

Leonard jumped up, his desk chair spiraling backward into the room. He reached down and tapped on the keyboard, closing out his work. Then he spun around to face her. "What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me?"

She frowned. "No! I wasn't trying to sneak up on you." Normally she would have rapped on the door before entering, but that was no reason for him to react this way. She glanced at the screen, despite the fact that it was now blank. "Are you working on the presentation?"

He scoffed a little and ran a hand through his hair. "I have more than one project going on right now, Cate."

Caitlin let her confusion and annoyance show on her face. "I know you do. I just expected you to be concentrating on getting ready for the presentation tomorrow."

"I'll spend some time on that this afternoon. I just needed to take care of some…writing." He shrugged, his eyes cast to the floor.

Caitlin stepped forward, laying a hand apologetically on his arm. She knew what he meant when he said he was writing. Journaling was his own form of therapy. And of course, she sympathized about the date conflict with the conference. He had told her when the schedule was sent to them that October 20th was Allison's birthday, but he had insisted that he would have no trouble dealing with it. Obviously, he had been wrong. Maybe this would be a good time to try to talk to him about getting counseling again. It had helped her immensely in the aftermath of her father's passing. "I'm sorry, Len. I guess this is going to be harder than you expected—"

"I told you I'll be fine," he snapped. "I'm trying to work through it today, that's all."

Caitlin stepped closer to embrace him. "I'm sorry."

His arms wrapped around her shoulders and she nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his scent. She loved the way she was so much shorter than him. He could just enfold her in his arms and she felt so warm and safe there. But he held her for just a moment before releasing her and trying to step back.

She reluctantly pulled away and looked up into his face. "Are you going in to work today?"

"No; you know, I thought about it, but I really feel like being alone today."

She stepped back. She could take a hint. "Fine, then. But if you want to talk about it, I can call in, too."

He shook his head, looking away to avoid her gaze. "That's not necessary." He turned his back on her, returning to the edge of the desk.

She gazed at him wistfully. "Of course it's not," she replied. Then she paused before deciding to give it one more try. "I just want to make sure you'll be okay."

He stopped, standing still with his back to her, his palms flat on the surface of the desk. "I'll be okay if you'll just…leave me the hell alone!"

She shook her head and slipped out the door. He would have to deal with the pain in his own way since he refused to let her help him. But the rejections hurt more than he knew. She had let him into her own grieving process, and she had always been there for him in the past—why didn't he trust her to be there for him now? Every time he had pushed her away in the last few weeks she felt acutely the presence of a stone wall that he just wouldn't let her in beyond.

She was starting to despise his past, quite honestly. She knew better than most that there was a difference between mourning and refusing to let go. He behaved as though resolving his grief over Allison's death meant Allison had never existed at all. Maybe it would be better if she hadn't.

"Told ya," Valerie said as Caitlin returned.

"It was worth trying," Caitlin said. "Tomorrow is important."

"Not the way you think," Valerie mumbled.

Caitlin ignored her words and went to change for work. If only the two of them weren't so caught up in dealing with Allison's death. Especially Leonard. Caitlin sometimes wanted to find that journal file of his on the computer and just delete it, or get that wooden box full of Allison's trinkets and letters and burn it. Not that doing so would help him to heal. It would only help to indulge her own spite.

Probably the woman he grieved for would never have been so vindictive. Given the way he held on so fiercely to her memory, she must have been really special. _Whoever you were, Allison, _she mused listlessly, _I suppose you were a better person than I._

* * *

Caitlin worked late that day. She had no desire to come home and be ignored by Leonard while he moped around the apartment.

Until recently it had seemed like he was finally letting go and starting to heal. During the first year of their relationship, he had gone off to be alone when the memories of Allison had been weighing heavily on him, even sequestering himself from his daughter. But this year, on Allison's death date in March, he had invited Caitlin and Valerie to sit with him. He didn't talk much. He had quietly shared a few memories before he broke down, and then he turned to Caitlin and wept into her shoulder. Later on, he had even let Caitlin look at a photograph of Allison—the first time Caitlin had glimpsed anything tangible that pertained to her. It was as though the more he let Caitlin into those memories, the more he was accepting the fact that they were over.

But this time around, there was something different. She just couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew he had plunged completely back into those old feelings of desolation. After the way he had spoken to her that morning, she knew he was not going to let her comfort him this time. She didn't want to deal with the resentment she would feel when he blocked her out, so she stayed away.

When she finally returned, the apartment was silent and still. They had arranged for Valerie to spend that night away since they were going out of town the following day. On the table, a single candle in a glass jar was burning. There was an empty bourbon whiskey bottle lying on its side next to it. She remembered this ritual of his, lighting a candle on days of mourning, and she left it burning despite the fact that it was a fire hazard. Blowing it out would only make him angry.

Caitlin approached the bedroom door. She could see him in there; he was sitting on the floor next to the bed, his head lolling back against the mattress. He had another half-empty bottle clutched in his hand. As she entered the room she gazed at him with pity. He had been trying so hard to handle his grief on his own. Obviously he had not succeeded. Was Allison's birthday that much different from the other anniversaries? She felt more strongly than ever that he needed to get some help to work through things. She needed to find some new approach to convince him, some way to make him understand.

In any case, she had to concern herself with getting them both to bed now. There was still a conference the next day, even if Leonard had been rash enough to get drunk tonight. She went around the apartment and turned off the lights.

She returned to the bedroom, crouching next to him. He was muttering to himself, insensible, and his eyes barely focused on her when she said his name. "Come on," she said, with just a touch of irritation, giving a tug on his arm to try to get him to support his weight against her. "You need to get undressed."

His head slowly turned in her direction, his heavy-lidded eyes rimmed with red. "Never see her again," he slurred.

She sighed and let go of his arm. There wasn't really any question of who he was talking about. "No, you won't. She's gone, Len."

"I told her I'm trying." His speech was still low and slightly garbled, so Caitlin had to strain to understand him. "You know I'm still trying."

She shook her head and took his hand to stroke it with her thumb. The stress of preparing for the presentation must have added a lot more pressure than he had expected. "No, we've got it all wrapped up," she assured him. "We'll be fine."

Leonard grunted and his head drooped to the side. "I try so hard. But she's always asking me."

She gave his hand a little squeeze. She felt so bad for letting him overtax himself. His mind was scrambling everything all together. She should have come home early. A moment passed as she mused, sitting down beside him and taking in the sight of his haggard face. She loved him so much. It pained her to see him self-destructing over his past.

His next sentence sounded even more morose. "I can't do it. I keep failing."

She blinked in confusion. He couldn't be talking about his career then. He'd been successful in everything he had done in their field.

"Only artificial," he slurred.

"What is?" She frowned. "I don't understand."

"The intelligence. Only artificial." He groaned longingly. "Miss her too much, miss her too damn much…"

Caitlin's heart flipped over. The words were innocuous enough, but something about the sentiment… Was he contemplating suicide? "No, Len," she said in an insistent tone, leaning forward to try to break through his drunken haze. "You have to stay with us. You can't go to her yet."

He replied with a low moan. "Got drunk so she would leave me be," he grumbled. "She always asks me. She'll never stop."

She felt her heart beating erratically. She had never heard him talk like this. Impassioned, she gripped his arm, caressing his face with her other hand. "Say no, Len. Tell her no."

His mouth bent into a crooked line, a wry half-smile, or was it a grimace? "It's not that simple."

She shook her head, a weepy feeling rising in her throat. The guilt of knowing that she had never pressed him to tell her about his nightmares rose up and choked her. How long had Allison been visiting him in his dreams, asking him to join her in death? She swallowed and found her voice again. "You tell her that you're not done here," she exhorted him. "You have to live your life with me and Valerie before you can go to her."

For the first time he tried to raise his head from the bed and sit more upright, grunting slightly with the exertion. "Caitlin?"

"Yes, it's me, Leonard." She moved back to a crouching position and pulled his arm over her shoulders. She was still sniffling, but she had to take care of business here. "Come on, we have to get some sleep."

This time he allowed himself to be dragged to a half-standing position. He was larger than her and heavier than what she could handle, so she let him fall against the bed and she had to half-roll, half-push him onto the mattress. He lay there still in full attire. She shook her head. Then, like a coddling mother with an overgrown boy, she pulled off Leonard's shoes and socks. He groaned a little, stirring as she proceeded to pull off his outer garments, cooperating as well as he could as she rolled him back and forth to get at each pant leg and sleeve.

Finally, she left him alone to change for bed. He fell asleep swiftly, his chest rising and falling with his ragged breathing. She turned the light out, slipping under the covers to press her body against his.

She could feel that the anxious tremor in her stomach caused her whole body to quake, and she ran her hand up and down his chest to soothe herself. He was still alive. It wasn't too late to help him heal. Somehow, she would help him through this. But she also couldn't help worrying about the presentation the next day. Of all the days for him to have a hangover, that was the very worst occasion he could have chosen. And of all the nights she needed sleep, she found it didn't come so easily.

* * *

She awoke to the alarm. She turned to nudge Leonard, but he was already out of bed.

She went into the kitchen and saw him sitting at the table, staring at the burnt-out candle. He was hunched in front of a cup of coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs. He had left the egg pan over the heat and the oil in the pan was scorching. She walked over to the stove and turned it off before sitting in the chair around the corner of the table from him.

She lowered her head down, trying to get him to look at her. "Are you going to be able to do this today?"

He didn't look up from the mass of congealed eggs on his plate. He had taken a few bites, but the eggs were cold now. "I told you I'll be fine," he mumbled.

"Fine? That's not what you said last night," Caitlin replied. She was trying to remain calm, but the memory of how upset she had been the previous night made her more outspoken than usual. "As a matter of fact, I don't think you have been 'fine' for a while now!"

He winced with the elevation in her tone. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She calmed herself before she spoke again. She would not let him see how frightened she had been, not yet, anyway. She needed him to see reason, not discount her arguments because she was upset. "You were muttering things when you were drunk last night. I know what's been going on with you."

His eyes darted to meet hers. "You know _what_?" he asked sharply.

Caitlin sat back in her chair, satisfied by his reaction that she was on the right track. "You said you've been trying to see her again, but you failed."

Leonard scoffed, scowling. "Don't tell me you bought into anything I was saying."

She knew she'd touched a nerve, even as he protested. "Oh, I know you were telling the truth." She put her hand on his. "I know you haven't wanted to go for grief counseling, Len, but if it's gotten to the point where you're thinking of suicide…"

Leonard let out a guffaw, pulling his hand back. "Oh, yeah, the suicidal ideation thing." He looked down at his plate with what Caitlin could only assume was contrition, but a smile was playing around the corners of his mouth. He hardened his mouth into a neutral line, pressing his lips together for an instant. "You don't have to worry about that. It was only because I was drunk."

She leaned forward into the table, now allowing her agitation to show. He might think it was funny, but she certainly didn't. "Why did you do that? I've never seen you that drunk before."

He fidgeted with his fork. "If we're lucky, it'll be the last time."

She sighed through her nose, rubbing her forehead restlessly. "I know it's still hard for you, Len. But it's obvious that drinking to numb the pain only made it worse."

Leonard glanced at her. "Maybe I needed it to."

Caitlin shook her head. "I never want to see you like that again. Do you understand? You scared the hell out of me!"

He stared down at his plate. Despite his attempts to defend his behavior, it seemed he was as disturbed by it as she was. "All right, Cate. It won't happen again."

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Sometimes I Forget - Seam  
_Leonard avoids Caitlin when he needs her comfort the most_

Be Here Now - Ray LaMontagne  
_Caitlin wishes Leonard would focus on the things of the moment instead of living in the past_

One Headlight - The Wallflowers  
_Leonard inevitably deals with the aftermath of Allison's death in an unhealthy way_

I Grieve - Peter Gabriel  
_Leonard grieves for Allison's death and for the times he's been left behind_

Autumn Leaves - Eva Cassidy  
_Allison's birthday in the fall always reminds him how desperately he misses her_


	39. Chapter 39

Caitlin timed her call for the end of the school day. As expected, Valerie answered her COM pad immediately. "Yeah?" she said.

"Valerie, this is Caitlin," she said. "Your father and I have some last minute plans and I need you to spend the night at your friend's, if possible. Or at least the evening."

Valerie huffed. "What? What is it?"

"We want to have dinner alone, that's all," Caitlin said. "We haven't had time alone together in some time."

"Why is that my problem? Wait until I have gymnastics tomorrow."

"Valerie, please do what I ask," Caitlin said, rather sharply. She didn't often lose patience with the girl, but though she appreciated Leonard's attempts to keep the peace between them, Valerie clearly didn't regard her as a parent.

"Yeah," Valerie said. "Sure. Whatever." The call disconnected and Caitlin pushed the exchange out of her mind—or she tried to—turning her concentration to her plans. She had suspected some good news was coming, but today, it had been confirmed. She was both nervous and excited, but given the way Leonard had been acting lately, she couldn't be sure how he'd take it. But she knew what she was going to do—she was going to surprise Leonard with a romantic evening. It was so unlike her to take charge the way she intended to do that night, but she was determined to affect the outcome in her favor.

She made sure to arrive at home first that afternoon—most of the time to get to or from work she rode with Leonard, but this was the one day of the week that they had different schedules. Not that working and living in the same places meant they spent a lot of time together. They worked out of different offices at the university; at home, the more she had tried to talk to him about what was bothering him, the more he had become sullen and withdrawn. And he was spending more and more time cloistering himself in their home office when he could be spending time with her.

As his depression had continued to languish, she had become lonely. She missed him. It was so upsetting to miss someone who was there every day, but that was how it stood. She knew one romantic evening wouldn't be enough to snap him out of it if it was truly a clinical depression, but they could at least share a nice evening…just one night when he would be himself again. This was good news, after all; great news! Then why was she so anxious about his reaction? Surely, he'd be happy and they could celebrate together.

By the time Leonard was due to arrive, she had everything prepared. For dinner she got take-out—one of his favorite meals, a steak dinner with sautéed onions—and arranged everything attractively on the table. Candles were lit in the living and dining areas, as well as the bedroom, and she had changed into a black dress that Leonard had complimented her on the last time she had worn it. She fidgeted with the hem, trying to look comfortable in it. She wasn't used to wearing slinky clothes, and felt all too aware of the way the fabric clung to her body, but she wanted to entice him. Make him forget about whatever it was that brought that far-off, melancholy gaze into his eyes; make him remember how she loved him. She waited with anticipation just behind the door, standing up straighter when she heard the click of the doorknob.

As he opened the door, Leonard seemed lost in his own world, and he had to stop abruptly to keep from barreling right into her. "Wha—?"

She decided to start out coy. "Hi, Leonard," she said. She gave him her best coquettish eyes, smiling what she hoped was a flirtatious smile. She felt kind of awkward and out of her element doing that. There was a reason she had gone into a scientific field—concrete concepts suited her much better than the uncertainty of romance. Still, there was no denying how pleased she felt to have surprised him so completely. His amazement showed all over his face.

"Uh…hi?" He seemed frozen in place, confused. "Did I forget our anniversary or something?"

"No," she said, still smiling. "I just got some good news today and I wanted to celebrate with you."

"Oh." He put his keys down. He seemed to be pulling his mind from somewhere far away, trying to bring himself into the moment. He stared down at the surface of the side table next to the door before he turned, blinking, and regarded her from head to toe and back again with a smile. "You look good."

So it was working, she noted with satisfaction. Time to reel him in. "'Good'?" she teased with a touch of mock offense.

"What do you want, a soliloquy? 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?' You look hot." He took her hand, kissing it as she laughed. "Is that good enough?"

She smiled. "Yeah, that'll do." He was acting much more like himself already. But with the increase in his attention she felt suddenly too shy to do what she had planned, which was to put her arms around him and demand a kiss. She felt herself blush and despite herself, she drew back a bit.

"Where's Valerie?" he asked, glancing further into the apartment.

"Staying at her friend's." She trailed her hand up his side to his waist, but didn't approach him again.

He seemed to notice her nervousness. "What kind of 'news' is this, anyway?" He pulled her up close to him. His tone was both excited and anxious. "This isn't like…medical news, is it?"

Caitlin laughed, realizing what impression he was getting. "No, no, of course not. I just wanted a romantic night with you. It seemed like a good excuse."

He nodded, relieved. "What do you have planned?"

With him looking down into her eyes, she felt emboldened, and she responded by standing on her toes and touching her lips to his. To her delight, his grip around her shoulders tightened as he drew her closer. It had been weeks since he had responded to her subtle advances, certainly even longer since he had initiated anything. But now her efforts to change the atmosphere seemed to be enough for him to allow the melancholy he had been cloaked in to drop off his shoulders. She opened her eyes as he kissed her more deeply. The careworn lines on his face were softening, being smoothed away as he gave in. She felt a delicious sensation flutter down her back, something she had craved—the feeling that came from the knowledge that he desired her. She closed her eyes again, shifting to hold her body more firmly against his. Then a low moan escaped her throat and she cringed back slightly, her eyes snapping open in embarrassment.

He grinned and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. He often teased her about her demureness. "It's okay, Cate, I like to know you like it."

Still, she couldn't stop the sensation from the flush that was spreading over her face. Though she knew he had noticed, she turned slightly to try and hide it, motioning toward the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

"Very." He pulled her back to him, dipping his head to nibble eagerly at her neck.

She started to feel dizzy, and realized she was nearly panting as she leaned back into his encircling arms to accept his affections. She swallowed and tried to find her voice again. "I meant for dinner…" she finally protested feebly.

"Me, too." He pushed the shoulder of her dress aside to dip his mouth below the neckline.

"Mmm…" She tried to stand more in an upright position to still the heady sensation. "No, I mean…the food… It's drying out in the oven…"

He didn't divert his attentions from what he was doing, his voice muffled. "What is it?"

"Filet mignon, baked potato, cabernet…" She trailed off as Leonard stood upright.

"That sounds good." He kissed her one more time, on the forehead this time, and smiled. "I guess you're right. We don't want that to go to waste."

"No," she sighed. As she readjusted her dress a vision flashed into her mind of her grabbing him and leading him seductively to bed. But as he turned around to walk toward the kitchen she just meekly followed him. She wished she hadn't persisted like that. Why couldn't she just be impulsive for once?

The good news was waiting for him, printed out on a piece of paper she had folded to stand up in front of his spot at the table. It had arrived on the terminal that afternoon. It was the letter that they had been waiting for, having been sent to inform them that they had an interview scheduled with an ONI representative in New York three months later.

As Leonard sat down, Caitlin took the plates from where they had been warming in the oven. She set his plate down and uncovered it, smiling. He didn't react, so she looked over at him. He was frozen, staring at the paper clenched between his fingers.

She paused in puzzlement. "Did you read it?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied, shaking his head. "Sorry."

She felt dread grip her heart for a moment. Had the melancholy returned again so quickly? "Well, don't you think that's good news?"

Leonard smiled; a thin, bleak smile. "Of course it is."

Her heart started pounding. This had been his dream for years. And here he was, barely reacting to the news that he had finally gotten his chance. She sat down across from him.

"Len…," she began. But she bit back the words that had been on the verge of escaping her lips. If she brought up counseling, they would just get into another fight about it. She wanted him to be amorous, like he had been when she greeted him at the door. She put her hand on his instead. "Len, come on. Isn't this exciting?"

He nodded, finally raising his eyes from the paper and looking at her. "I'm sorry, Cate. It's…" He seemed to be struggling to express something, but then he suddenly set the paper down and sat up straighter. "Forget it. I'm going to enjoy this. Okay?"

"What is _wrong_?" The question had come out in spite of herself. She wanted to discuss it—sometime—but not now, not when he had been enjoying her advances.

He shook his head, staring down at his plate. There was a pause, and then he picked up his utensils and took a bite of the steak. He gestured to the plate with his fork after he swallowed the first bite. "This isn't bad."

Caitlin blinked back the tears that had misted up in her eyes. "I got it from that restaurant where we had your birthday dinner." She sat up straighter and put her napkin in her lap, trying to pretend that everything was normal.

"Mmm, yeah, that was pretty good." He looked up from his plate in her direction, but he gazed over the surface of the table, his eyes distant.

Where was his mind? She hated small talk, but she felt herself becoming nervous, and soon she knew she would begin babbling just to fill the empty silence if he kept this up. "Well, I remembered how you liked it. That was before, uh… Well, you were a lot happier back then, I mean, not that you aren't happy now, I just…"

He glanced at her face, then down at his plate, cutting off a bite of steak. "You can say it."

She had been fidgeting with her own utensils, pulling the texture of the meat into strips, and now she jabbed a sliver of it agitatedly. "I just thought you'd like having it, to celebrate."

"I do." He smiled just slightly, his eyes seeing far-off visions over her shoulder. "See, it all started when I got together with Allison. It was almost graduation, and she wanted to surprise me. But this is a lot more expensive than what we had." There was a silence as his gaze drifted again, clearly holding back from expressing whatever he was recalling at that moment. His smile faded and he focused on Caitlin's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up."

He must have misinterpreted her expression. This night was supposed to be about the two of them, it was true, but she didn't want him to stop talking. He was finally, finally opening up to her. "No, you know, I think you need to talk about it. That's why…" She looked down at her hands. No; she'd already held back one comment about counseling to avoid an argument. It seemed like this tactic was working. She looked up at him again. "…Did she surprise you?"

"Did she surprise me?" Leonard chuckled, his eyes soft and far away again. "Yeah, you could say that." There was a moment's pause before he focused on Caitlin again. "But really, Cate, I know you don't want to hear about that."

"What makes you think that?" Caitlin popped up to grab a tissue at the counter to wipe her nose with. "I've been begging you to talk to me about this stuff, and if not me a counselor—"

She cringed when he reacted. She hadn't meant to let that thought slip out. "Caitlin!" His anger was instant. "Don't fucking start with me again!"

She gaped at him for a moment. "Leonard, _why_ do you get so mad when I mention counseling? Don't you see the way holding it in is twisting you up inside?"

For a moment Leonard's eyes resembled those of a caged animal, narrowing and darting to the doorway, restlessly, as though he wished to flee the room. "This isn't what you told me we were doing here. We're supposed to be celebrating. You want to celebrate tonight? You drop this subject and let me eat."

Caitlin sat down in her chair with a thud, wiping her nose and eyes and struggling to keep from bursting into all-out weeping. Just when it looked like they were going to have a real breakthrough, she had to go and open her big mouth.

Leonard remained motionless for a few moments before turning his attention back to his plate. He started eating again, but Caitlin could only sit there, trying to take deep breaths to calm the turmoil of emotions charging through her chest. He wasn't savoring his food as he had earlier, instead chewing and swallowing rapidly as though he were in a hurry. She had a feeling that if she didn't manage to defuse the tension between them, he would disappear into the office as soon as he had consumed the last of the meal.

She shifted restlessly. "Len…?" She didn't even know what she was going to say, but he looked at her again.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Leonard thumped the end his fork into the surface of the table before letting it go to clatter against his plate. "_What_, Cate? What is it?"

Again an image flashed in her mind, this time of her straddling him in his chair. _Be impulsive. Go on._ She half stood and hesitated, nervously alternating between choosing to go for broke and backing off again. Why was she so competent giving a presentation to a roomful of scientists, but so embarrassed to be flirtatious with Leonard?

Leonard seemed to catch on to her dilemma. His posture changed, his shoulders relaxing, as his scowl disappeared and his mouth spread into a slight smirk. She became aware that she was blushing again, which made her embarrassment compound on itself, and she plunked back down to her seat.

He was grinning openly now. "Do it, Cate."

"Do what?" she asked, blinking to avoid his gaze.

He tilted his head back affirmatively, still smiling that cocky smile. "You know. Whatever it was you were about to do when you talked yourself out of it."

She swallowed hard, looking at those green eyes. If she backed down now, it would give him another reason to tease her. And she definitely didn't want things to go back the way they had been a few moments ago. She bit her tongue to steel herself. Time to clear her mind and go with her impulses. Let them lead, stop trying to think about things so hard.

She stood, bucked the table back with her hip to give her enough clearance, and threw her leg over his lap. She settled in front of him, chest to chest, and shoved her hands into his hair as she kissed him roughly. He didn't respond at first. She knew he was making a pretense of holding back—probably to see how long she would persist—but finally she felt him sink into the kiss and his hands came up to caress her back. This time she didn't hold back when her voice arose from her throat, and she allowed the sound to elongate into a needy groan.

That did it. Leonard staggered to his feet, while Caitlin wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped his shoulders. It felt so good to lose control for once. She concentrated on his lips as she was transported across the apartment. Salty with a touch of wine, and the contrast between their soft texture and the stubble around them. And oh God, his hands—he smoothed them down her body and then under the hem of her dress after he'd laid her down. Just that, the sensation of skin against skin, was a sensation too long relinquished. She had missed it, so much. She wriggled out of her dress as he tugged on it, leaving her in her undergarments, which she had selected with as much care as her dress.

He started pulling off his own clothing, and she watched him, anticipating. She knew he liked it when she was passive like this, which was fine with her because she loved it when he would just take her—just the thought of him taking over and leading her made her wet, and she writhed a bit in place as he stripped down to his boxers. Of course he was hard by this point, and he took her hand and placed it on his cock. She let her eyes flutter shut and she stroked him through the fabric, and she was ready, so ready, God she wanted him inside of her. She pulsed her hips up and was rewarded by him pulling her panties off. She opened her eyes and looked at him, half-lidded, and deliberately flopped her knees open, loose and ready and so hot, so so hot.

He smiled slyly and reached down to stroke her, once, twice, and then he curled his fingers into her. Remembering earlier, she rewarded him with a groan, closing her eyes. He dragged his fingers up toward the top of her slit and rubbed circles around her clit before returning, and with some urgency she grabbed his arm and pulled him down on top of her.

He shoved his boxers down and joined her on the bed, grabbing a condom out of the side table and applying it, then pushed into her, pressed deliciously into her, and she grabbed him to cling to him, lightly grunting. And they moved, and they fell into rhythm together, and he filled her, body and soul.

Then it was over, and he lay next to her, so close but not touching her now, his breathing slowing and eyes closed. She looked over at him. He looked so peaceful, so contented, now. But she was unable to let the thought go—would he just go right back to being depressed after this? Had she had any impact on his mental state at all?

She turned on her side to regard him more fully. He seemed to be close to being asleep. She took her fingertip and traced it down his nose and mouth before cupping his chin with her hand. He smiled softly. She pulled herself closer to him and laid her head on his chest. She closed her eyes to breathe in his scent, and the smell of the candles. Everything was silent and still and comfortable. It seemed a shame to speak at this moment. But she felt the questions playing at the tip of her tongue. Finally, she gave in.

"You—you're happy, right, Len? You always wanted the chance to interview with ONI."

The smile was gone from his face. He swallowed. "Yes, you're right. That's all I ever wanted to do."

She ran her fingertips up and down his torso. "Then why are you reacting this way?"

He shrugged slightly. "I don't know. Something about it is bothering me."

She opened her eyes to look at him again. There was a small frown on his face, creasing his forehead. She used her thumb to smooth the lines out again and kissed him there. "Are you afraid? Afraid of failing?"

His frown deepened. "No." His eyes opened and he looked into hers. "It's just…" He shook his head, fishing for words. "I used to have this professor at Austin who was always calling Dr. Halsey 'the Edison of our time'. Something about that keeps bugging me."

Caitlin shrugged. "It's kind of an archaic example, but I can see what he means. Edison was one of those inventors who just lived in the right era. He made lot of discoveries about electricity."

Leonard reached up to trace the curve of her cheekbone and jaw line with his thumb. "I just never thought it was very complimentary. Pretty much everything Edison ever did is either obsolete or discredited."

Caitlin couldn't help smiling. "That's what's bothering you? That six hundred years later he's not considered the greatest inventor of all time or something?" She settled her head on Leonard's chest again. "Dr. Halsey may not be remembered in six hundred years, but people will probably still be building off of something she discovered."

Leonard didn't answer her. He closed his eyes and drew his arm around her instead.

She put her arm around his waist. "Did I help you feel better?"

The only answer she got was a squeeze and a kiss on the top of her head. She could take that as a yes, but somehow she knew that it was really meant to be dismissive. Despite the efforts she had gone to that evening, it had not made any difference. Of course not, not after she had broken her own rule about bringing up counseling, not after she had sparked yet another argument on the topic. Though it was her own fault, and as much as she had suspected it would turn out that way, it still hurt. It hurt a lot.

Caitlin blinked back her tears until she was sure that Leonard had fallen asleep. Then she slipped out of bed, walked into the office, closed the door behind her; and only then, when she was sure she was utterly alone, only then did she let her sobs break forth.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Her Song - Helen Trevillion  
_Caitlin has always given herself entirely to Leonard, and she does everything she can to bring back that spark of connection between them_

My Skin - Natalie Merchant  
_They grow distant and Caitlin tries everything she can to bring things back to the way they used to be_

Muscle Museum - Muse  
_Caitlin puts more work into their relationship than Leonard can even acknowledge_


	40. Chapter 40

Valerie walked home from school that day. She sometimes went to the library or her friend's house, but today she felt like being a homebody and lounging in her pajamas. It meant she would have the place to herself for at least an hour or two—that much was inevitable. Sometimes she hated that. Not today, though. Today, she decided, she'd fix herself a big bowl of cereal and put on her PJs and catch up on some reading for school.

She set her bag heavily on the armchair as she came in, and went to the kitchen. That bowl of cereal had been calling her the entire way home. She'd sort of forgotten, though, that they were past due to go shopping. She frowned at the box of raisin bran in the cabinet and pulled it out, then went to get the milk. She wasn't in the mood for raisin bran. She wanted something sugary, something with marshmallows. And a glance in the fridge showed that it didn't matter anyway, because they were out of milk. They were out of almost everything. There was a bit of cheese, half a withered up head of lettuce, and a carton of eggs in the fridge along with the condiments. Pitiful. She opened the carton and found that there were two eggs left. A couple of scrambled eggs with cheese looked to be her only option for an after school snack—unless she felt like having some ramen or canned pasta. Which she didn't. She wasn't supposed to use the stove when she was home alone, but if she washed the pan no one would know. And she made eggs on Saturday mornings all the time. She knew what she was doing.

Eggs, then. She scrambled the eggs in a bowl with a fork and heated the pan up, poured the eggs in and waited for them to bubble. She got the cheese grater out next, held it in midair above the pan and started grating the cheese right into the pan. It was trickier to do it this way then she expected and she dropped the cheese onto the stove, reached for it, and bumped her thumb against the edge of the pan. She jerked her hand back, hissing in pain, as the pan skidded partway off the burner, splashing egg onto the burner.

Okay, time to stop. Stop, stop, stop. She switched off the heat and… what to do about the egg on the burner? She couldn't use a rag or a sponge on it, not while it was still hot. Besides, her thumb hurt. She abandoned the stove to go run cool water over her hand. She waited a while, then switched the water off. It took almost no time for the pain to return. She turned the water on again, but then the wall terminal chimed with an incoming call. Probably her father to say he and Caitlin were running late. She rolled her eyes, switching the water off, and went to the panel, but the ident on the screen declared that it was her grandfather. Now that was something different. She smiled and answered. "Hey, Grandpa Lars," she said.

He chuckled at the moniker. "Well, hello. How are you doing?"

"I burned my thumb," she said.

"Oh, that's terrible," he said. "How did you do that?"

"I was making myself some eggs," she said.

"That's too bad," he said. "Did you put anything on it?"

"Just water." She sucked on her thumb for a moment, which didn't help _at all,_ and she winced. "I don't know what you put on a burn."

"There are ointments," he said. "Maybe you should call your father and ask if you have any there."

"No," she said. "It's okay." She didn't want her father to know she'd burned her finger. Then he'd realize she'd been cooking.

"I can call back later if you need me to," her grandfather said.

"No," she said. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing in particular," he said. "I tried to call yesterday afternoon but you didn't answer."

"Oh," she said. "I was spending the night at Mahala's."

"On a school night?" he asked. "How did you manage that?"

"I just call Leonard and ask. He doesn't mind. And Mahala's mom likes to have me, so it works out."

There was a wry turn to his mouth when she called her father by his first name, but he didn't comment. She knew he didn't like that—he thought it was disrespectful—but he probably knew better than to think making some comment about it was going to change it. Instead, he said, "So this has happened more than once."

She huffed. "Sure it has. He's busy. They usually take me to gymnastics and dance anymore, too. It's not like Caitlin has time to do it."

"They both tend to be busy at the same times, don't they?" he asked.

"Yeah, they do everything together." She shrugged. "It's okay, Grandpa. I get to spend all the time I want with Mahala and they get their work done. That's what's important to him."

"It would certainly seem that way, wouldn't it?" he said, frowning.

"It is that way," she said firmly. "And it's more fun being at Mahala's anyway."

"So I see." His expression softened then and he said, "Well, I wanted to tell you about what happened this week," he said. "I found a chimpanzee, right in the driveway. It was crazy."

"Wow, what?" she said, knowing this was the setup to a joke and trying to guess the punch line before he could say it.

"Yes, he was right out front, working on my car. Can you imagine? But I guess he was a real grease monkey."

She groaned. "No, Grandpa, a chimp isn't a monkey. I can't guess if you screw it up."

He sighed even as he laughed. "Sorry, I didn't mean for my joke to be factually incorrect," he said.

"You going to have to research them from now on," she said sternly. "Or I'll give you bad marks."

Just then the door opened. Oh, shit. What were they doing home already? "I've gotta go, Grandpa," she said.

"That's fine," he replied. "Tell your father I'll talk to him later."

"Okay."

She disconnected the call, with a vain hope her father wouldn't notice the mess in the kitchen. "Hey," she said, turning.

But he was already heading in there. He was carrying a couple of grocery sacks, and Caitlin came in then, carrying a couple of bags as well. "What the hell is this, Valerie?" he said as soon as he saw the stove.

"I know, I made a mess," she said. "And I burned my thumb."

He set the bags down. "You burned your thumb?" he said. "You aren't supposed to use the stove where we're not home. Now look what you've done."

"I know," she said. "I dropped the cheese on the stove and accidentally bumped the pan."

He approached the stove to test whether it was still hot, holding his hand over it tentatively. "Stupid. You're smarter than that, Valerie. What if this had started a fire?"

She looked at him in dismay, her heart settling somewhere at the bottom of her stomach. "I know." Her thumb hurt like hell. She waited for him to ask her whether it was okay, to offer to treat it with ointment like her grandfather had talked about.

But he didn't. "Clean it up," he said. "And don't ever do something like this again."

And like hell she was going to complain about the pain. He'd just accuse her of trying to get out of cleaning. She hardened her mouth into a line and went about the business of cleaning it up.

When she was done, she turned. Leonard was no longer in the room; only Caitlin was there, putting the last of the groceries away. "I'm going out for a minute," Valerie said.

"You should ask your father if that's all right," Caitlin said.

"Look, I cleaned up my mess," Valerie said. "I'll be back in time for dinner. That's all he'd tell me." Though she had no idea why he fucking cared about that. All they did when they ate together was sit there and not talk. At least not lately.

"All right," Caitlin said. "Go ahead."

As though she was asking Caitlin's permission. She scoffed a bit, heading for the door. She decided on the stairs rather than the elevator, and jogged down them. The longer this took the more that sensation in the pit of her stomach felt like a bomb that was ready to blow. It was later in the evening now, which worked out since there were fewer people on the sidewalk than there was when she'd come home. She took a deep breath and jogged in place for a moment, waiting for the one person who was still walking down her block to cross the street.

Then she clenched her fists, bent her head low, reared one foot back to bounce off of, and took off running as fast and as hard as she could.

* * *

After dinner, while Valerie headed off to her room, Caitlin began the job of cleaning up, and Leonard excused himself to go work in his office. It was a typical evening as far as that went. Leonard had a stack of projects to concern himself with and he chose to work on one of the least urgent and most mindless so that he could devote some of his thinking to other things. Allison things. Allison AI things, specifically. As soon as someone worked out how to create an AI out of the holographic scans he would have more considerations, and he would need to make notes in his journal as to what they entailed. He found his place in the file he intended to work on tonight and started the process of keying data into it. This would at least give the impression that he was working on something he ought to be should Caitlin decide to burst into the room, as well.

Gaining access to a computer powerful enough to complete such an operation was one consideration in creating an AI from Allison's mind. It didn't matter when the solution was found or who did it as far as Leonard was concerned, but he knew it wouldn't be possible to translate the amount of information involved in that process on a home computer. Bringing her disc back into the department, though, was out of the question. No, the only way to bring that part to fruition would be to purchase a computer like that himself, which was going to look like an extremely extravagant and unnecessary purchase. Caitlin would be confused by the decision and he'd have to find some way to justify—

Leonard's COM pad alerted him to an incoming call and he pulled it out of his pocket to look at it. He mainly used it for work and was annoyed until he saw the caller was his father. It was still odd that his father was calling his private line, however. Normally he called the main terminal. Leonard set the COM pad on his desk and answered on speaker, all the better to continue entering lines of data while he chatted.

"Hey," he said. "What's up, Dad."

"Something that requires your attention," Lawrence said.

Leonard let out a little hum. "Like what?"

Lawrence said, "I spoke to Valerie this afternoon."

"That's nice," Leonard said carelessly, realizing he had shifted a line of data, and began copying the numbers to their correct spaces.

"Leonard, I called to talk, not for you to try to put me off," Lawrence said.

Leonard scoffed. "If I wanted to put you off I would have said, 'Hey Dad, this is a bad time, call me later, why don't you.'" He nevertheless sat back away from the keyboard and picked his COM pad to take it off of speaker. "So what is it?"

"Valerie told me about how she's been spending her time with a friend instead of at home," Lawrence said.

"Sometimes," Leonard said. "Her mother is a homemaker, so she has more time to deal with getting Valerie to practices on time and things like that."

"Sounds to me like you're taking advantage," Lawrence said.

"Did you seriously call to lecture me?" Leonard asked.

"Not about that," Lawrence said. "That's just a side issue."

"You called to lecture me," Leonard said. "You picked up the phone to lecture me about parenting my own daughter."

"Leonard, listen," Lawrence said. "She told me she feels more welcome with her friend and her family than she feels at home."

Leonard sighed. "Sometimes she and Caitlin don't get along, that's all," he said. There were never any screaming matches in their household but there certainly was a lot of barely concealed hostility and poor attitudes expressed.

"It sounds to me like there's more to it than that," Lawrence replied. "I think you're not spending the time at home that you should be."

Leonard scoffed lightly. "Dad, no offense? But you're one to talk."

"No, Leonard, I need you to consider this," Lawrence said. "Does this sound familiar to you at all? A young girl who isn't missed at home? A young girl who spends whatever time she can with a more caring family?"

Leonard was momentarily stunned by those words. The parallel he was drawing to Allison's situation when Leonard had first met her was clear. "She's, she's missed at home," Leonard stammered. "I miss her when she's not home. Of course I do."

"Think about what your actions say to her, though," Lawrence said. "Think about what you're doing, son. Please, for her sake."

Leonard frowned. "Okay," he said. "I got the message." And with that he disconnected the call, without giving any farewell. His mind was bent on this new information and what he needed to do about it. He stood, tucking the COM pad away and then pushed his hands through his hair. How foolish. He'd been making her feel unneeded and unnecessary and probably even unloved. And he loved his daughter. Maybe he was bad at showing it. Maybe he needed to make up for some things.

Well, he knew at least somewhere to start.

* * *

Valerie was lounging in bed, reading her book for English class, when there came a knock. She was glad for having an excuse to have a break from reading—she'd put this off until the last minute and she had eight chapters to read before the quiz tomorrow. "Come in," she called, putting her finger in the book to mark her spot.

Her father poked his head in, then stepped into the room. "I just wanted to let you know that I've decided you won't be spending the night at Mahala's so often anymore," he said.

"_What?_" she said. "Why not?"

"You need more instruction at home," he said. "I don't want a repeat of what happened earlier."

"But I'll be safer at Mahala's," she protested. "You're not here ever."

"I'll do what I can to come home earlier," he said. "I can do the work I've been doing in the late afternoons just as easily at home."

"That's stupid," she groused. "Why do I have to be at home just to watch you work?"

"This way I'll be around when you need instruction," he reiterated.

She released her book so she could cross her arms. "I don't want to be instructed."

"Well, this is how it is now," he said. "I'm going to call Mahala's mother to let her know you should be coming home after practices from now on."

"This isn't fair," she said. "It's not fair! I didn't do anything!"

"You got a couple of Bs on your midterm, actually," he said. "I should have done this as soon as we got the report. You're too distracted."

"I'm not distracted! I'm reading my book for English right now, see?" She picked it up to show him.

"Is it a new assignment?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Have you been reading it at Mahala's?" he asked.

She frowned. "No."

"So how much do you have to read?"

"Eight chapters," she admitted. "But I can read it all before bedtime, honestly."

He shook his head. "No more sleepovers at all," he said. "Not until I see some As."

"Leonard!" she protested. "I'm doing it though!"

"That's final," he said. "Get back to reading."

"This isn't fair!" She slapped her book down against her legs. "It's _not fair!_"

"Life isn't fair," Leonard said. He turned and left.

With a loud shout, Valerie threw her book at the door, leaned her head back against the wall, and howled.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Perfect - Alanis Morissette  
_Between Leonard's pressure on Carolina to keep her grades up and his tendency to be distant she feels constantly judged_

Human - Christina Perri  
_Carolina feels the pressure to be the best she can be to live up to her father's expectations_


	41. Chapter 41

**Warning for this chapter: Mentions of suicidal ideation**

* * *

That final week of December, the morning of the interview dawned gray and drizzly. Leonard awakened before the alarm, glancing over at the woman beside him. He had been dreaming so vividly—not having a nightmare. That was the oddest part. It was like he was reliving those moments, so much so that he was actually half-convinced he would awaken and see that Allison was lying in bed next to him.

It was Caitlin lying there, of course. He leaned back into his pillow and sighed, closing his eyes and letting the events play out again in his mind.

_He was sitting at the desk while Allison lounged on the bed, copying notes for one of his classes. The topic was Nikola Tesla, and he kept interrupting Allison's studying to read her things from his research, excited and fascinated by what he was learning._

_Suddenly he realized she wasn't even listening. She was just looking down at her book with a smirk on her face, shaking her head._

"_What?" He set down his notes and she looked up at him, laughing._

"_You." She set her book aside and sat up, moving closer to him, smirking. "I think you want to be Tesla."_

"_What's that supposed to mean?" He smiled, genuinely puzzled, but curious. He knew what she was doing pulling herself closer to him, and he was resisting, but it wouldn't last long._

"_I mean you make things happen when you put your mind to it. It's how you get things done." She gave him a flirtatious smile, reaching out for him and tugging herself forward, almost pulling herself into his lap. "How do you think you got to be with me?"_

"_I guess I _am_ pretty persistent." She had brought her lips just a hairsbreadth from his, waiting. "You are, too."_

_She tilted her face just a fraction of an inch further away, but her breath was still warm on his skin as she whispered. "Are you done studying?"_

_That was enough. He crushed his lips against hers, and he stumbled forward to tumble into bed with her. She was leaving for boot camp so soon. It would be one of the very last times._

_And she had fallen asleep on his shoulder, and he remembered. She thought he could do great things, put his mind to discovery like Tesla had done. He didn't know if that was true. All he wanted to do for the rest of his life was be with her, and everything else would work itself out._

The alarm went off and Caitlin stirred. He was awake, of course, but he kept his eyes closed. He was still trying to puzzle out why this memory kept persisting, and letting it linger. The first hint of it had come to him a couple of days before they had received the letter notifying them of the interview, something intangible and barely recognized, like a wisp of fog. It had been days before the memory returned to him fully, but in the weeks since, it had only grown in his consciousness.

After Caitlin touched the terminal to silence the alarm she turned and snuggled up to Leonard's shoulder. "Len…" She touched his eyelids and kissed him. "Wake up."

He hummed out a sigh and opened his eyes.

"Good morning." She pulled herself up to look down into his face, smiling. "We have the interview this afternoon."

He didn't really respond to her. It's not like he could forget, with the way she had been flitting all over the place the evening before, trying to make sure they had all the last-minute details worked out. He had found it hard to care last night, and it was even worse right now. The shadow of that old memory remained…

Caitlin's demeanor changed when she saw how he was just laying there. "Len, don't be that way today. Please? Come on, this is exciting! Leonard?"

"Yeah," he said. He turned his eyes to look at her. "Big day."

He saw a look pass over her face, something akin to panic, and she bent down to kiss him. "Look, I know how we planned to keep our schedules this morning and meet in New York this afternoon, but we could just both call and cancel our field research today."

Leonard put his hands behind his head. "Why?"

Caitlin pressed her head to his shoulder. "I'm scared. I don't recognize you anymore. You used to be so enthusiastic about our research. Now you barely even care that we have this big interview today…?"

"I'm fine, Cate." She lifted her head to look in his eyes again. "Really, I'm fine. I'm just getting prepared, that's all."

She looked unimpressed. "Promise?"

He hated lying to her. He knew exactly what happened to a relationship when there were lies. But he had started this process himself…was it weeks ago, or years? When he first started planning this whole thing, it was unfathomable to him that he would be in another relationship by the time his plans came to fruition. Why didn't he just drop the plans when he and Caitlin got together? Why didn't he just move on? Why couldn't he tell her now what was happening, admit he had made a terrible mistake?

"Yes," he replied. "I promise."

* * *

"Dr. Caitlin Suh and Dr. Leonard Church?"

Caitlin arose hastily from the hard plastic chair, casting a nervous glance at the door that led from the waiting room to the hallway. "I'm Dr. Suh."

"And Dr. Church…?"

She shook her head. She had vainly hoped that stalling for those few seconds would be enough. She made the admission reluctantly. "I'm sorry, Dr. Church has not yet arrived."

The assistant, a primly-dressed man with a pinched look on his face, stood in the doorway that led to the offices. He spoke in a crisp manner, the way of someone who can barely expend the patience to deal with a minor inconvenience. "If he is running late, we can let the next interviewee go ahead of you."

"I'm so sorry!" Caitlin had to swallow a panicked feeling. "He must have run into some sort of delay—"

The assistant dismissed her babble with a flick of his wrist. "Well, we'll go ahead and call the next interview for now."

Caitlin sat back down. Her stomach was tied in knots. She had attempted to call Leonard a couple of times and he had not answered. He was a bit of a scatterbrain sometimes, but he couldn't possibly have forgotten about this. Could he? But it had to be that, it couldn't be—

She wished they had scheduled the interview for some other day of the week. It would have to be on the one day of the week that neither of them were in the office. Caitlin had even tried to convince Leonard that they should meet at the shuttle station, but since they spent that day in different areas, it wasn't convenient for them to go to the same one. She wished now that she and Leonard had been assigned to do field research with the same firm.

She moved to sit in one of the chairs closer to the door, so that she could stare anxiously down the brightly lit hallway. She wanted to see as soon as he approached. _Come on, Len. Any second now would be good._ Wherever he was, he'd left his COM pad at home. The central communication system server insisted that he was at the apartment. If that was true, he hadn't chosen to answer her calls, so she was forced to wonder what had become of him.

She kept forcing her hands apart so they wouldn't wring in her lap—no need to show everyone in the office how anxious she was. Still, her mind was reeling, her heart in her throat. She had wasted too much time sitting around this waiting room. She needed to find out what had happened to him. He had been depressed, she had even seen it in his eyes that very morning, but even then she had never envisioned…

The images that presented themselves to her now distressed her beyond what she had been able to imagine, even after that night he'd gotten drunk. Leonard lying in bed with a gun, a spatter of blood and brains dispersing on his pillow… Leonard jumping off the edge of one of the bridges over the Charles River, to plunge into the water below… Her love, her only—had she really failed him so drastically? It would have been worth it to lose the interview if only she had stayed with him—she should have taken him to the hospital that very morning and had him admitted for suicide watch—

"Dr. Caitlin Suh and Dr. Leonard Church!" came the second call, tired of politeness. The assistant's circumspect look told her that he realized Leonard had still not arrived. He seemed to be smugly writing them off in his head.

Caitlin stood up again. Her jitters made her hands tremble and she held them tightly against her sides as she spoke. "You know, I was wondering if we could reschedule, because I'm concerned something happened to him. I haven't heard anything."

The assistant gave her a haughty look for a moment. "You do understand that our representative has come all the way from Reach for these interviews? We are working on a tight schedule."

Suddenly, she felt her demeanor change. She didn't have time to play head games with this uppity assistant. She drew herself taller and gave him an authoritative look. "Will you please check for me, sir?"

The assistant's snide look disappeared as he nodded, the change in her attitude immediately changing his. He went into the office for a few moments as Caitlin waited, frozen in place. It seemed like time had stopped. Would it really all end this way? The dreams and plans that she and Leonard had made over the last couple of years about becoming ONI researchers flashed through her mind, the all-nighters, the late-night cups of coffee and collaboration on research…falling in love with him… All of it, all that had been such a waste. Without him, nothing about this mattered anymore.

The assistant returned with an appointment card. A time slot for the following morning had been jotted on it. "Our representative has had to delay his departure flight in order to accommodate this interview," he informed. "You are fortunate that he is so impressed by your work."

"Thank you…so much." She turned to leave.

"Dr. Suh?"

She turned to look at the assistant, pausing inside the doorway.

The assistant's look told her he knew she was genuinely concerned. "I hope everything is all right."

She nodded, looking into his eyes. "Me, too."

She dashed to take a shuttle back to Cambridge. A New York-to-Cambridge shuttle was about a ninety-minute flight and she fidgeted apprehensively as she stared out the window.

When the shuttle landed she was the first to her feet, uncharacteristically shoving by the other passengers, barely mumbling an apology as she barged on by. Panic rose with each second that ticked by. She pulled out her COM pad once she was on the ground and repeatedly tried to call him. He still didn't answer and she rushed to get a taxi. She could barely stand the tension and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning in frustration. The taxi pulled up to her building and she paid, pushing a wad of cash into the cabbie's hand before she turned to rush into the building.

She rushed up to their floor, but that was where her haste ended. The moment of discovery was seconds away. She put her hand on the doorknob and felt her heart shrink from the task ahead. She didn't know how she could handle it if she found that he had died in there all alone. She would never forgive herself.

It took nearly a minute of hesitation before she finally felt able to open the door. It swung open and she stepped inside, straining and blinking her eyes to determine whether she was really seeing him or if she was deluding herself. But there he was, his back to her, sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of scotch in front of him. There was a glass of the dusky amber liquid in his hand and he was swirling it, the ice cubes clinking.

The momentary rush of relief that he was all right melted in the face of her blaze of anger at realizing he had withheld communication, worried her, for no reason at all. She marched up to him and whacked his shoulder with the back of her hand. "Where the hell have you been?"

He didn't remove his eyes from his glass. "I figured out what was bothering me."

Caitlin shook her head at his apparent apathy, her distress rising. "Leonard, I know you've been feeling depressed, but I just can't—"

"Would you stop that?" Leonard put his glass down. "I'm not depressed, and besides, this has nothing to do with that."

"Oh?" She put her palms flat on the table to lean toward him accusingly. Now that her fears had dissipated, anger was taking over. "Then what the hell is it?"

He looked up at her. "It's going to be okay, Cate. I've got it figured out now."

She shook her head, exasperated. "_Good_. Because I went to a lot of effort to get them to reschedule, Leonard. The ONI rep was originally planning to leave tomorrow morning. You're fortunate that they thought so much of our presentation at the conference."

He shook his head, lifting his glass to swirl it again. "I'm not going."

"Are you fucking _kidding_ me?" Caitlin's gestures were filled with vexation as she vacillated between approaching him and backing off again. "Everything we've imagined for the future of our research, all the work we've been hoping to collaborate on? This was…this was your idea! And you're going to throw all of that away on a whim?"

He still had that damned placid expression on his face. Was this really just apathy? "This isn't a whim. I just hadn't worked it out in time to decline in a timely manner."

"Decline?" She stopped moving around and stared at him in bewilderment. "_Decline?_ What could possibly be so important that you have decided to throw away everything you've worked so hard for?"

"I haven't thrown _anything_ away." His composure didn't waver, in fact he seemed to square his shoulders even more in response to her intense scrutiny. "I just realized I have a different means for accomplishing what I have planned."

She stood with her hands on her hips. "You have never mentioned this. You have _never_ mentioned anything but working for ONI since we started preparing for this conference. We dedicated a _two years _of preparation to line up this interview, Leonard. This just isn't rational. What could be so important you would give that up?"

He looked up at her. "You remember what I said about my professor? The one that called Dr. Halsey 'the Edison of our time'?"

Caitlin only stared at him, her head shaking slightly in exasperation.

He picked his glass up again. "Well, today when I woke up all I could think about was Tesla. You know, Tesla made important discoveries while he worked for Edison, but Edison didn't let Tesla have any of the credit or any creative control over what he had designed. And now?" He took a sip of his scotch and then raised the glass to gesture with it. "Our modern electrical infrastructure is based on Tesla's discoveries. Not Edison's. I mean, can you imagine how things were when Edison's model was in use? Big power plants, electrical wires running between buildings on ugly poles?"

Caitlin's shook her head more adamantly as she caught on to what he was implying about his own abilities. Was he so arrogant? She had to talk him down from this insanity. "Len, Tesla died penniless and practically unknown. His discoveries took centuries to be fully appreciated."

He set his glass down again, leaning forward to drive home his point. "But if he had stayed in Edison's employment, everything he created would have been lost. It would have all belonged to Edison and Edison would never have allowed those discoveries to come out. There was too much money in metered electricity. Can you imagine paying _per watt _for electricity? That's what people had to do back then."

Caitlin scoffed. Her anger was still strong, but there was distress rising too. What was he thinking? "You sound so—so selfish. You know that? It doesn't matter who gets credit for something. If Tesla had discovered the modern method of delivery while he was in Edison's lab, it would have become the standard long before it did. Edison would have recognized it for the superior technology that it is."

Leonard shook his head. "Don't be so naïve."

Caitlin pressed her lips together. "Leonard, why does it matter? This isn't what you said we were doing. You _promised_ me you were going to meet me. You promised…" How could she turn this conversation toward her own hurt? Because that's what was rising now—the feeling of betrayal that he'd caused by lying to her this way.

"Why does it matter?" he repeated. He leaned forward conspiratorially. "I think I'm on the verge of solving a couple of major paradoxes. I need to have control of the technology when I make the breakthroughs."

She frowned. "Leonard, no. Our training in AI technology is all in military applications. If you're about to make a breakthrough you should _definitely_ be at ONI when it happens."

He smiled slightly, shaking his head, and picked up his glass again. "It's not that simple."

"It's not that simple?" she repeated. She'd heard this excuse before—it was what he had said when he was drunk the night before the conference. It was the very statement that had kept her so worried in the weeks since then. But if he was saying that now…he hadn't been talking about suicide then. Had he? "What does that mean, 'it's not that simple'?"

"I need to do it this way," he replied, offering no other explanation. He picked up his glass and finished off the drink.

"I can't believe this!" Caitlin stalked to the doorway to the living room and glared back at him, though her chest had begun to heave with repressed tears. Nearly nothing he had done in the last couple of months reminded her of the man she had fallen in love with. She put her hand on the doorframe, and delivered the only sentence she could manage to compose before she rushed away, not willing to let him see her burst into tears. "I… I don't even know who you _are_!"


	42. Chapter 42

Caitlin returned from New York at around two o'clock in the afternoon. She hadn't spoken to Leonard since she had stormed out of the kitchen—she had locked the bedroom door behind her, so he was forced to sleep in the living room. If he had slept at all. When she emerged from the bedroom after the fitful night, barely rested, that odious light was peeking from under the closed door of their office, and his daughter was still in bed. Caitlin left for the early shuttle without saying goodbye.

It was so humiliating, having to show up to the rescheduled interview and explain that Leonard had decided to decline. And she had to give the whole presentation herself—not that she didn't know his half of the research inside out and backwards, but she had never had to do that before, not to mention the short notice she had been given to prepare for it.

Fortunately, once she got past the awkwardness of explaining his absence, the rest of the interview had gone very well. The way the ONI rep asked a number of questions let her know that the research was something that ONI was definitely interested in. She had been exhilarated when she got back into the shuttle for the return flight. It was only as she contemplated what she should do next that the letdown came. She still needed to deal with Leonard, at some point or another.

Now she was back in Cambridge and needed to decide whether to go to her office at the university, or back to the apartment. With the way Leonard was behaving, she was liable to run into him at either place, and she didn't really want to see him yet. But she needed to catch up at work because of taking the extra time off, so she finally decided to go to the university.

When she entered the department, Leonard was standing further down the hallway chatting with Steve, the department head. Dr. Steven Hutchison was somewhat of a contrast to the dry intellectuals the field was known for. He had a cheerful demeanor and, despite being known as one of the greatest AI experts, he disdained formalities, so everyone called him by his first name.

Steve was his usual jolly self, laughing at whatever Leonard was talking to him about. Leonard caught sight of Caitlin and faltered before finishing his sentence. Steve glanced behind him and saw her as well. He gave her a little wink before turning his attention back to Leonard.

Luckily, the office Caitlin shared with one of the other postdocs was on this end of the hallway, so she didn't have to pass the office the two men shared. She fumbled with the lock on the door, noticing out of the corner of her eye that Steve was approaching her now. She didn't really want to talk to him, either. She wanted to be a hermit today, be alone and think things through.

Just as she had disengaged the lock, Steve came and clapped her on the shoulder. "Leonard is a shrewd man, you know," Steve told her cheerfully. "You should hear out his reasoning."

She straightened up, trying to match the stature of the taller man, annoyed that Steve already knew what was going on in Leonard's head. And that he approved, of all things. He should have boxed Leonard's ears for doing this to her. Obviously Steve didn't know the whole tale. Later on she would have to tell him her side of the story, but right now she couldn't help but sound testy when she responded. "I'll talk to him when I'm ready."

"All right." Steve grinned at her from behind his salt-and-pepper beard. "Congrats on the interview, by the way."

Caitlin couldn't help chafing at Steve's eternal optimism. "Thanks," she replied coolly, turning away.

She went inside the office and sat down at the desk, logging into the system and rifling through some of the files in her drawer. She was normally so organized, but today she couldn't remember for the life of her what she had planned to work on. Her throat was tight, her mouth set in a grim line, and she took a deep breath, trying to relax. For now she needed to ignore what was going on in her personal life and concentrate on work—forget how tightly wound together those two parts of her life were.

The doorknob clicked and she felt her body stiffen. She turned her head to glance over her shoulder, just far enough to catch a glimpse of Leonard's silhouette in the doorway, before turning her attention back to her desk. She wasn't going to acknowledge him first.

"Cate?"

She tilted her head at the same angle again, staring him down from the corner of her eye, but made no other reply.

"I just…wanted to find out if you'll be coming home for dinner."

She turned her face forward again, pausing for a moment. "I'll get home whenever I get home."

He waited a beat. "Can we talk then?"

She sorted through a stack of papers, waiting a moment before answering, trying to appear indifferent. "We'll see."

The sound of the door clicking gently closed was the only response. To her surprise, she felt her anger welling up in a torrid release of tears. She held her hand over her mouth to hold back a sob. Did he have any idea what this was doing to her?

She spent the rest of the afternoon essentially shuffling around papers and getting nothing done. She just couldn't concentrate, her thoughts a haze. So she decided to pack up her work around five o'clock and head home. She needed to hash things out with him. She wouldn't be able to get any work done until she did.

When she arrived at home, the light was on in the office once again. Valerie was sitting at the table, working on homework. Caitlin walked by her and went to the office door. Leonard was mumbling to himself in there, and the keys on his keyboard were clacking vigorously. He had a much different style from her—he typed out all of his brainstorming, filling pages with notes and ideas before sorting through them and finding the best material. He also had a thing for notating things on scraps of paper and leaving them on his desk. As much as she loved him, she hated sharing an office with him. That's why they only did it at home and not at work. She constantly had to straighten up his desk so that it wouldn't drive her mad.

Her heart softened toward him a little, remembering that. She would miss working with him; they complemented each other so well. She just couldn't figure out what they would do if she got the job with ONI, though. It was an advantage that he was working here at MIT, where he would still be working on the ONI holo scan contract. But it was a definite disadvantage that she would be moving so far away from him. It would be hard to maintain any semblance of a relationship if she was living on Reach and he was living on Earth. _If we even last past today,_ came the unbidden thought.

She shook her head to clear that line of thinking and rapped on the door. It was too soon to make any conclusions. Leonard opened it after a moment. Obviously he had noticed that she hadn't walked in after knocking like she normally did. So he looked unsure, but expectant.

"Hi," she said softly.

Leonard's expression took on a slightly hopeful look. "Hi."

There was an uncertain silence as they both hesitated. Finally, Leonard spoke. "Are you hungry?"

She nodded, stepping out of the way to let Leonard lead the way to the kitchen. "Val, can you give us some privacy, please?" he said. Valerie looked up at him with a flat expression and stood to gather her things.

As soon as she had retreated to her room Leonard reached into the fridge to heat up some leftover Chinese food. He and Caitlin only exchanged whatever words were needed to deal with fixing the meal. They sat down across from each other at the table, still keeping things quietly civil. But Caitlin knew this couldn't go on forever.

She decided to start with a softball. "Len? Why didn't you answer my calls yesterday?"

He paused for a moment to swallow the bite of food that was in his mouth. "I was out."

"Out? _Where_?"

"Just walking around. Thinking."

She looked down at her food, contemplating this for a moment. "I was really worried."

He frowned and shook his head. "Look, Cate, I'm sorry I didn't get this sorted out in time to get a hold of you."

"You don't seem to understand," she said sharply. "I was really, _really_ worried, Len. I thought I was going to walk in here and find you with a bullet hole in your skull."

Leonard was speechless, staring at her agape for a few seconds, lip curling in disbelief. "Hell, Caitlin, if I felt that way you'd know about it. I had no fucking clue you were thinking _that_."

"Well, you should have," she snapped. She took her napkin out of her lap to wipe her eyes with. "Ever since that one night when you were talking about it… This has just been getting worse and worse and I feel like you have been…" She took a deep breath. "I mean, isn't that a sign of impending suicide? When people disengage and get rid of all their obligations? You know how bad it kills me to see how you didn't care about us landing the interview? You, of all people?"

Leonard spread his hands in front of him. "Look, Cate, I'm sorry. This isn't how I meant for things to be."

Caitlin narrowed her eyes. "You've rejected all my attempts to help you, you've rejected all my suggestions that you get counseling, and now I have to tell you, after what you did yesterday…" She sat back, shaking her head and crossing her arms. "Just apologizing isn't going to fix things, Leonard."

There was a silence as Leonard took in this response, one of his hands curling into a fist out of frustration. "Fuck, okay, I guess you're right." He paused and let a sigh out through his nose. "Look, I know I can't fix everything. But maybe I can talk things through with you…?"

Caitlin scoffed. He'd been keeping far too many secrets, in her opinion. "Well, _that_ would certainly be a change of pace."

A look of irritation arose on Leonard's face for an instant, but he bit back the undoubtedly sarcastic reply that had been on his lips. He visibly struggled for a moment before he settled back into his chair. "Yeah. I think I owe you that much."

There was a pause again, so Caitlin gave him an encouraging—more like impatient—nod.

Leonard crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair, and looked to the side, avoiding looking into her eyes. "Well, when I got to the shuttle station yesterday—"

"Oh, no," Caitlin protested, putting a hand up to stop him. "This didn't start yesterday. You started having nightmares again in October. I can almost pinpoint it to the day. This whole thing…" She shook her head. "You know, I've been hoping you would open up to me on your own. I'm not ignorant of the fact that something has changed. And it's obvious to me that this whole thing is tied to Allison somehow."

Leonard blanched as she spoke. His head bowed slightly, and he stared down at the floor with his lips pressed tightly together.

"Yeah," she murmured. "It's written all over your face." She picked up one of her chopsticks and started fidgeting with it, letting it drop out of her pinched grip to repeatedly tap the table. "See, and it's obvious it wasn't just her birthday. Something _happened_. And you've been trying to handle it, all on your own."

Leonard swallowed hard and looked up at her.

Caitlin stopped fidgeting and slammed the chopstick down. "So are you going to tell me what it was?"

"Yes!" Leonard sat up suddenly, gripping the edge of the table. He took a deep breath. "Yes, Cate." He licked his lips before he continued speaking. "You're right, and I never should have done what I did that started all this."

She waited a moment, and was about to inquire indignantly whether he was going to tell her or what, when he started to haltingly speak.

"You, uh… I—I've told you Allison was in the military."

Caitlin nodded. "Yes, I know that."

He swallowed hard again and wrapped one fist inside the other, resting his chin on them. "Well, it was the anniversary of the attack on Harvest and I suddenly got the idea to search for her name in the database."

Caitlin's brow wrinkled in her confusion. "Was Allison Special Forces?" He knew as well as she did that they had only done the holographic scans on Special Forces members. What a pointless thing to do otherwise.

He looked down at the surface of the table. "Yeah, she was."

Caitlin bristled. "You never told me that."

Leonard just sat motionless.

Caitlin shook her head, sighing. "So you made this stupid decision to torture yourself by searching for her name and you found what?"

He closed his eyes. "She, uh… She's not in there anymore."

Caitlin took this news in quietly, pausing a moment to ponder how he must have felt to make that discovery. It was difficult to feel pity for him in this situation, but a small part of her was almost sympathetic. He didn't think he had been depressed, but between his refusal to get grief counseling and his desire to recapture the past, his irrational behavior suggested that there was something deeper going on, even if he couldn't admit it to himself.

"I suppose that makes sense," she finally said slowly. "They would have to do that in order to approve you for the security clearance to work on the project. Conflict of interest." She picked the chopstick up and started bouncing the tip of it off the tabletop again. "So, then, yesterday…?"

"So, yesterday," he sighed. "Yesterday I went to the shuttle station and I had this… I don't know, panic attack or something. I couldn't get on the shuttle because there's just… I just don't trust them, Cate. And the story about how Tesla used to work for Edison has been going through my head for weeks and I couldn't figure out why. Until then. It was because, you know, I think I'm really close to solving the holo scan paradox and maybe even solving the rampancy problem and I don't trust ONI to handle that correctly."

Caitlin stood up and cleared both of their plates. It didn't seem either of them was going to make any progress eating the cold noodles, and the solidifying grease on the plate was making her sick to look at. She took a deep breath as she walked away from him, deciding to forego discussing his apparent mental disturbance of late, and focus on the practical aftermath of yesterday's decisions. "I…just don't know what you possibly think you're going to do about these objections of yours, Leonard. If you stay at MIT as a postdoc you'll be on track to become faculty, but…"

His next statement was filled with conviction. "I'm starting my own lab."

Caitlin couldn't help her reaction. The absurdity in his assertion made her laugh in disbelief as she set their plates in the sink. She turned around, crossing her arms and leaning back against the counter. "You know, that's the same tone of voice you used to use when you would say, 'I'm going to do research at ONI.'" She shook her head. "You seem to think it's such an easy thing, but it's a lot easier said than done. Hell, ONI would have been easier for you just 24 hours ago." She started ticking off her objections on her fingers. "You'd have to get grant funding, rent a facility, hire a staff… You're a scientist, Len, not an administrator. Taking care of those details would kill you. You'd hate it."

"I've already been writing for grants," he relied quietly.

She gaped at him. "Since yesterday? You've already gotten started on this since you decided to do it _yesterday_?"

"Have you ever known me to be someone who wastes time? You know, someone once told me…" He paused, and then blew out a deep breath, standing and walking up to her. Caitlin felt uneasy for an instant; towering over her like that, she instantly felt he was trying to intimidate her, even though she knew he wasn't. "I mean, Allison used to tell me, that I was the kind of person who gets things done when I put my mind to it. You know I'm not like someone who gets interested in a project and then drops it at some point later."

She shook her head. "You think about her a lot more than you've let on to me. She's been your inspiration for this…? All of this?"

Leonard cleared his throat. "Yeah. But I think I was wrong. You were right, you know, what you said yesterday; what you said about me being selfish. I have been _so_ selfish. I thought keeping everything about Allison inside, somehow I would be able to… Well, I thought… It was like I thought I could bring her back." He shook his head. "Shutting you out of this… I know I haven't been fair to you. On so many levels. I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am."

Caitlin looked up into his eyes. She was still so angry at him, but she could see something in his eyes, something that had been missing for months. The man that she had fallen in love with was still in there. They still had issues to work through, but he had laid so much of himself bare for her. It was slight, but she was softening toward him. Could she finally manage to get him to talk to someone, get some help? If he would, that would change a lot about how she felt about this situation. It wasn't enough to fix what he had done, obviously, but if he finally let go of his past in a healthy way it would be a huge relief.

She snapped out of her momentary reverie as he leaned in a bit to continue speaking. "See, my vision of the future is becoming clearer and this lab is what I see. And you are in that vision, too. I want you there, too, Cate. I want you to be my head of research."

She felt her shock register on her face. "Me? Are you kidding?"

Leonard tilted himself back again, chagrined. "I know there's a lot for you to think about right now."

"After that conversation," she muttered, casting her eyes away from him, "yes."

"I understand," he replied quietly. "But I should tell you. I see now that I love you…more than I ever have."

* * *

Leonard lay awake in the dark after Caitlin had fallen asleep. After a while he turned the edge of the blanket down to look at her. She was so beautiful. And he had been taking her love so much for granted. She'd stayed by his side even when he wasn't very lovable. Just the fact that she had let him back into the bedroom tonight was proof of that.

He knew that being with this woman—since Allison—was the best thing for him. And Allison couldn't come back; shouldn't come back, at any rate. Caitlin was here and lately he'd been missing it. Despite his plans, he'd been living for the moment for far too long. And this was the first time he saw where Caitlin would be in his future. He had seen it all that evening, perfectly laid out; spending the rest of his life working with her, and loving her. He didn't want to use her anymore—as hard as it was to admit it to himself, that was what he had been doing.

He felt a strange sensation, like something sinking down in his heart. He needed to make this commitment complete. It was so difficult to even contemplate. He felt his breathing quicken. Could he?

He slithered out of bed and wandered out into the living area of the apartment. It was so still and cold outside the comfort of the bedroom. He crossed his arms, hugging himself to keep the chill and the lonesome feeling away. No… He didn't really want to do this. He turned as if to go back to bed.

But first, he thought, he'd order Caitlin some flowers. He had a lot to make up to her. He touched the screen of the terminal to activate it and blinked at the brightness of it. After his eyes had adjusted, with only a moment of searching he saw the perfect arrangement on the terminal's screen. Her favorite, white daisies, paired with buttery yellow roses and complemented with greenery. Grateful that it hadn't taken long to select something, he ordered it for morning delivery.

Slowly, he turned his mind back to the task he had actually come here to do. His breathing went shallow and he could almost feel sweat begin beading on his forehead as he pulled the Allison disc out of its hiding place. Reluctant, he walked into the dark office and stood directly in front of the shredder.

Just one little motion. Just a flick of the wrist and it would all be over. He would be free again.

He closed his eyes and ran his fingers over the label for what would be the last time. He didn't even need to see to be able to trace over the name written there; he'd done it a hundred, no, at least a thousand times. He let the memories wash over him as they did every time. Everything he had done to save her, and how he had lost her.

He stood there, for a long time, what might have been an hour, waiting for that moment when he would be able to let her go. It was simple enough, destroying her. It was something he would have to accept. He'd just…never create her AI. That was all.

Never.

He opened his eyes and looked at the disc, holding it up to try and gaze at it through the room's obscurity. Slowly, his arm shrank back against his body, and he found he was light-headed as he slowly turned away from the shredder, shuffled back to the hiding place, and slipped her back inside.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Dagger - Slowdive  
_He makes his decisions on his own and ruins his and Caitlin's plans_

Going Under - Evanescence  
_Caitlin confronts Leonard about his lies, receiving more lies in answer to her charges_

Learn To Fly - Foo Fighters  
_Leonard makes one last grab at fixing things, inviting her to help in his business_


	43. Chapter 43

The morning was cold, but a cloudless sky allowed the winter sun to stream through the blinds in the kitchen, giving the room a brightness unusual for the time of year. It was somehow both golden and pale, not quite lending the illusion that it should feel any warmer than it did, despite the way the antiquated heating labored to keep the drafts from the windows at bay.

Caitlin was leaving for her second interview the next morning. An ONI representative from Reach had been sent for a second round of interviews, this time in New Mombasa.

It would be the first time Caitlin had been so far away from him in a long time. Since coming to Cambridge, Leonard had not spared the time or expense to visit his father back in Austin. For Caitlin's part, her mother was career military, and her grandparents lived in the same system as Reach. Visits had proven to be easy to put off while she was working so hard on establishing her career, especially when her ultimate goal was to secure employment nearby her family. For both of them, life was always work and research, late nights and presentations. There had never been any reason to go anywhere else.

So much had changed recently. Leonard's new obsession of working toward funding his lab took up much of his time. Valerie's birthday celebration consisted only of a hastily-planned dinner out because his attention was so divided. For Caitlin's part, she needed to prepare a new presentation for her second interview. They continued to share an office, but things were strained now whenever they were both laboring at their desks.

But today, on this sunny March morning, Leonard had determined he would give her a chance to relax, really relax, before she left. Things had been far too stressful on her. Even with the way they had been arguing, he could recognize that much. And he did still love her. As difficult as things were, he still desired to see her work side-by-side with him. It could be like it was before, just like the old days.

He got up at the usual time, making sure that Caitlin's alarm was turned off, before heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Valerie awoke soon after—he could hear her enter the bathroom for her shower and exit again a while later. "Good morning," he said when she finally came into the kitchen.

She eyed him. "What are you doing?"

"Beating eggs," he said, stating the obvious. "They were bad, so I'm punishing them."

Valerie rolled her eyes. "You're not Grandpa, you can't get away with saying stuff like that." She moved to the cabinet to pull out a box of cereal.

"I'm making omelets, if you want one," he offered.

"Sure," she said, moving to instead settle in one of the chairs. "Why are you cooking? Don't you have to be at work soon?"

"I'm taking the day off. Caitlin's leaving tomorrow and I wanted to give her a chance to relax."

"Oh," she said, tone suddenly flat. "I thought you guys were mad at each other."

"Well, maybe she won't be mad at me when you check back later," he said. "What do you want in it?"

"Ham and cheese," she said. "You think making her an omelet is going to fix anything?"

"No, but I think it'll give her a reason to sit and talk with me."

"Right." Valerie tapped her foot. "I don't have much time, you know. I didn't expect you to cook for me."

"It's okay if you're a bit late. I'll write you a note."

"Oh," Valerie said. "Do me a favor and let my dad know where I am when you see him, huh?" She stood up. "Because he would kill me if he thought I was going to skip first period to have an omelet."

He looked over at her. "You can afford it, just this once. It's almost ready, just give it another minute."

"Nah, I don't think so." She gathered her bag up off the floor where it lay nearby and stopped nearby him at the counter to tap her hand on it. "But you can enjoy it yourself, strange man I don't know."

"Oh, get out of here then," he said, and she laughed a little before heading out the door.

It was an hour after the time they usually awoke in the morning when Caitlin padded into the kitchen, still disheveled from sleep, to give him a begrudging look. "I told you I didn't want to take the day off today," she said. Her tone was cool, yet resigned.

Leonard didn't turn from his position at the stove. "I didn't call you off; Steve did. If you try to show up at work, he's going to kick you out of the department," he replied, making the fact that he had already won this one abundantly clear. "We agree that you need to spend some time relaxing before you leave tomorrow."

She didn't respond as he flipped the omelet he had been cooking. It was her silence that drew his gaze. She had settled into a chair at the table, and sat staring vacantly with her lips pressed together. "This looks a lot like bribery, you know."

"Well, maybe it is." Leonard turned from the stove to get a plate. "I mean, look, I'd like to think you're at least considering choosing my offer over theirs. And things with them might not pan out at all. So you ought to have a back-up plan, at least."

She shook her head, reaching for the glass of juice he'd set out. "If you want me to fail the interview, this is a strange way to go about it."

"Hey, now, don't put words in my mouth. I didn't say I _wanted_ you to fail it, just that it might not work out." He slid the omelet onto a plate with a couple of slices of toast, before setting it down in front of her.

She made a sound of appreciation at the first bite. She paused as she brought the fork back down. "I think I'll just take you with me and keep you as a cook," she mused. "I think maybe you missed your true calling."

"Sure, why not," he said with a shrug. Caitlin was notorious for her inability to cook. "Wouldn't want you to starve to death out there."

Her lips twisted into a sardonic look. "Yes; I'm sure you would drop all your plans just to keep me happy."

He snorted. "I could say the same thing."

Caitlin looked at him coldly. "I'm not the one who changed my plans."

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively. "We're just going to have the same argument we've been having if we keep talking about this."

"It shouldn't _be_ an argument," Caitlin muttered to herself. She set down her fork and let her head bob forward, sighing. "I just… I never thought I'd be going to New Mombasa alone for the second interview. I always pictured you…right there, beside me."

Leonard sat back stiffly in his chair. "Look, I know. I know I screwed up. But making me feel guilty about it isn't going to change anything."

Caitlin paused before taking another bite. The pair sat in silence for a moment as she chewed and swallowed. She shivered and pulled her robe around her more tightly, pinching the fabric at the base of her throat with one hand. She coughed lightly and looked at him. "I told you I would," she murmured.

She had spoken so softly Leonard was unsure if she had even been addressing him. "Sorry?"

She blinked at him, speaking up a little more. "I told you I would consider it. Remember? I said I would consider going with you to start your lab if you would consider getting counseling."

Leonard groaned a little and tipped his chair back. "Yeah… I know."

Her gaze went off to the side, looking at the pattern of the tile on the floor. "So. Have you been?"

"A little." When Caitlin shook her head, crossed his arms and looked off to the side. "I mean, look, Cate, I told you about what happened to my mother. All the medications and stuff, it just made her worse."

"At least she tried."

Leonard's head turned in her direction and he glared at her. "Don't you fucking say anything like that to me again."

"At least she fucking _tried_, Len." Caitlin took her napkin out of her lap and set it on the table, standing and leaving half of her food behind. She stood still for a moment, staring at him disapprovingly. "One day you're going to have to admit to yourself that Leonard Church is not perfect."

He spread his hands, his body language cocky. "Hey, if you think I don't embody perfection, I don't know what's wrong with your vision."

She didn't crack a smile. His attempts to defuse their arguments with humor had at one time never failed, but they simply didn't work any longer. "I'm serious. If thinking about it isn't even an option for you, well…"

He stood up as well, stepping forward to look her in the eyes, though his arms were still crossed. "Look…I _am_ thinking about it. All right?" He paused and dipped his head slightly. "It's difficult for me, but I'm not saying I'm not trying."

Caitlin bit her lip slightly. "Then I'm trying, too."

"Good." Leonard smirked. "And I'll be sure to gloat when you change your mind, so you don't have to worry about that."

That cocky attitude of his was back; it was almost possible to believe that the flash of sincerity he had just displayed was a momentary illusion, a trick of the light. Caitlin scoffed. "I really don't know why you think I would find that endearing."

His smile was irrepressible as he reached out for her. "It's not my fault I'm so loveable. It's just something I've learned to live with."

Caitlin rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I wonder if you were dropped on your head as a child."

Still, she allowed him to pull her into his arms and kiss her on the top of the head before she pulled away. "I ought to go get dressed," she explained.

Leonard cocked an eyebrow. "You don't need to, you know. I've got the whole day planned around you relaxing. You don't have a single obligation to take care of—no reports to write or results to compile…"

"I'm not going to sit around all day in my pajamas." She drew back and headed to the bedroom.

He followed her in, sitting on the edge of the bed. She paused in front of the closet door, her back to him, before pulling off her robe. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Watching." He didn't hold back the tone of amusement in his voice, even laughing a bit when she sent him a somewhat aggravated glare over her shoulder. She was so oddly private—even more so nowadays. "You want me to turn my back, Cate?"

She was unbuttoning her top; pausing with a sigh, she shook her head. "Whatever."

He leaned back into the mattress, putting his hands behind his head and stretching his neck. "You could just come here and let me do that."

She scoffed. "You'd like that." But after a moment her hands stilled, and then she glanced back at him again, casting her gaze over her shoulder.

He let a smirk spread on his face. They had been living more like barely-acquainted roommates in the past month than a couple. In fact, they had argued off and on so much in that month that he barely spent as much time sleeping in the bedroom as he had spent sleeping on the couch. That look she was giving him was encouraging. "Come here, then, Cate, if that idea sounds so appealing."

She turned her head away again and shook her head, pulling her arms out of the sleeves of her pajama top and dropping it into the hamper. "You are so damn arrogant."

He stood up and approached her. "No, I'm just right." He touched her shoulder with his hand, letting his palm caress her skin before putting his arms around her and resting his chin on her hair.

"What do you want?" she asked cautiously.

"Hey, today's all about you." Leonard let his fingers trail on the skin of her arms before tightening his embrace around her again. "Your wish is my command."

"Oh," she said. "In that case, call Steve and let him know we're going into work today."

Leonard let out an irritated sound. "That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

She laughed, pushing his arms a bit to loosen his grip on her so that she could turn. She looked up into his eyes, hesitant. "I'm still mad at you," she declared.

Leonard pulled his arms back, letting his hands cup her arms under her elbows. "Yeah. I know."

She stepped slightly closer to him, slipping her arms around him in a gentle embrace. She tilted her face up toward him, but paused, waiting for him. Something in her expression seemed almost disbelieving, as though she expected him to reject her.

He didn't.

* * *

When the alarm went off the next morning, it was still dark, earlier than they usually got up for work. It was earlier than necessary to make her flight, but she was quite high-strung about flying out on her own to go so far away. In a reversal of their usual pattern, Caitlin had stayed awake later than him, still checking and double-checking her trip details on her COM pad when Leonard had fallen asleep.

Now Caitlin's arm snaked out from under the covers, her hand drifting to her bedside wall terminal and sleepily bumping it against the screen to activate the snooze function. Leonard smirked to himself and turned onto his side, pulling his body a little closer to hers and caressing her arm with his hand. It took until the alarm went off again for her to acknowledge him. She smacked her hand against the screen to activate the snooze again, obviously more awake than she had been the first time.

He scooted back against his pillow to sit up a bit. "Good morning," he said, a bit amused at her grogginess.

Caitlin let out a sound—something between a whimper and a moan. "It's too early."

"I told you you didn't need to set your alarm so early," he replied. "You can afford to sleep in a little longer."

She rested an arm over her eyes. "I don't want to risk missing my flight."

"I tell you, you've got time." He put his hands behind his head, thinking about the day before. They still had issues, but this was one thing they always got right. "Plenty of time—enough for me to give you a nice send-off."

She uncovered her face and glared at him. "You have a one-track mind." She slipped to the side and sat up on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going to be late for my flight because of you." He sat up as she stood, grabbing the clothes she had hung up on the closet door the night before, then left the room to head to the shower.

It took an hour for her to get ready, nervously gulping down her breakfast and her coffee, and double-checking her attaché to be sure she had placed her presentation inside.

"Calm down," Leonard said, standing by with his arms crossed. She was usually so collected and organized, but this whole thing really had unnerved her. "Your presentation didn't crawl out of your bag overnight."

She glared at him as she zipped her suitcase up. "You'd be—" She bit back the retort with a huff, the expression on her face almost turning into a sneer.

Leonard shook his head, unable to keep himself from rolling his eyes a bit. "No, I wouldn't. There's no way I'd be that nervous."

"I wouldn't be either, if you were coming," she snapped. She grabbed her coat and slung it over her shoulders.

Leonard picked up her suitcase and looked at her. "If this freaks you out so badly, I don't know why you don't just forget about it. My offer still stands."

Caitlin scowled, shouldering the strap on her attaché. "I don't know why you don't just talk to a shrink, so I guess there's a lot we just don't understand about one another."

Leonard felt his face darken. "I guess _not_." He set the suitcase down long enough to put on his own coat, snapping the sleeves out as he inserted his arms, and fidgeted with the zipper before fastening it. "The only thing missing from this conversation is for you to make some snide remark about trying the long-distance thing."

Caitlin opened the door abruptly. "I can provide one if you wish."

Leonard grabbed the suitcase handle and pressed forward to get through the doorway. "I told you I have no problem following you out there."

She stepped back a bit to keep him from running into her. "You also said you wouldn't be able to afford to start up your lab there."

"Well, I'd have to start up here and then move there in a few years, that's all. I told you that."

Caitlin scoffed, pushing her hair back off of her forehead in exasperation. "Do you really want to go over this again?"

Leonard paused as he locked the door. "No; no, I really don't." He turned to see Caitlin standing beside him with crossed arms and one eyebrow raised. He shook his head and they headed to the elevators. The ride to the ground floor and walk to the parking garage took place in uneasy silence.

As he carried her bag Leonard's thoughts wandered. Why were they so stubborn about talking like they would be able to work things out? It almost seemed inevitable, the failure of their relationship; but he couldn't bring himself to broach the topic, and evidently, neither could Caitlin. Or maybe it truly had not occurred to her. Leonard knew this was her first serious relationship; he was the first person she had ever been in love with. And she had always been so much more than he had ever deserved. She had truly loved him, deeply, and it showed in everything that she did. For his part, he was simply too stubborn to let things fail without a fight. After the way he had fought so hard to win Allison, only to lose her, it just didn't seem right to let this relationship just fizzle out.

Neither of them spoke again until they had arrived at the airport and Leonard had removed Caitlin's small suitcase from the back of the car, picking it up to carry it into the building. "Hey," he said, looking straight ahead as he walked rather than turning to look at her.

Caitlin had been rushing up ahead of him; she hung back a bit to come even with him again. "What?"

"Sorry." He cleared his throat and glanced sideways at her. "I didn't mean to start another argument back there. I don't want you to leave angry."

She paused. "Okay." Almost as an afterthought, she added, "Thanks."

When they arrived at the security checkpoint, Caitlin tried to grab her bag out of his hand to rush off and get in line. "Hey, hey, hey," Leonard said, pulling the bag out of her grasp. "You're early, you know. You can at least spare the time to give me a hug."

She paused, embarrassed. "Sorry." She let him set down the suitcase and pull her close.

He kissed the top of her head and let her pull away. "Have a good trip, okay? Call me when you get a chance."

"I will," she said. The she picked up her suitcase and got in line, sending him a final awkward wave.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Battle - Colbie Caillat  
_Caitlin's giving Leonard one last chance to make things right, both for himself and for their relationship_


	44. Chapter 44

Leonard waited until he could no longer make out Caitlin's head as it bobbed among the crowds of people before he turned around, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat and casually walking out of the airport. It was strange to know he had no obligations for the next four days other than whatever he found for himself to do. He and Caitlin had become so used to spending almost every waking second together—sometimes he wondered how they had even ended up with their relationship as close as it was. Until recently they spent so much time bouncing research ideas off one another and discussing funding and theory—it was almost more of a business relationship than love.

But that wasn't true, he reminded himself as he started his car. He had truly fallen for her, back in those days; and hadn't she confessed at some point that she had been infatuated with him since nearly the very moment they had first spoken? How absurd. But he had known. Even if he didn't quite put it together until later. And now it was his own pride and foolish errors that were making her pull away from him. She'd lost that light in her eyes that had always been there when he was near, that look that betrayed her affections when she would catch sight of him across the room. It almost reminded him of—

But of course that wasn't the same situation. Allison had cheated on him; it was much more serious than what he had done to Caitlin. He was sure in the aftermath that there was no way Allison was as heartbroken over it as he was, and he remembered how guarded he had become in regard to her. In their relationship, _he_ had been the one who had always been infatuated, always devoted; the fact that he couldn't see her the same way anymore was almost as bad as knowing what she had done. He had still loved her so much afterward that it made his heart literally ache when he saw her and knew how he didn't trust her anymore, how he felt disgust at the idea of holding her and kissing her again. Is that how Caitlin felt? Is that why she had become withdrawn, at times unable to meet his eye?

He couldn't help remembering, today, the last time he had seen Allison in person. Dropping her off at the airport so that she could leave him and do her duty, to fulfill the goals of a career that didn't involve him and to which he was opposed. The subtle crease of a slight frown appeared on his face. Yes, the whole thing was uncomfortably familiar.

_Allison._ Was this right? He had promised himself he would never work on her AI as long as he was with Caitlin, but she still never failed to cross his mind, every single day. He only let thoughts of her flit by, purposely keeping himself occupied as much as possible to avoid the temptation to—

And holy shit, had his mind wandered far. He had intended to drive from the airport to one of the coffee shops near campus to grab a light breakfast before heading into work, but here he found himself most of the way home. That was going to cost him—he no longer had time for breakfast. And he couldn't afford to let his thoughts wander like that. It was going to get him into trouble. He shook his head in irritation and signaled a turn in order to go around the block and get headed in the right direction.

Spending his day at work didn't prove to be much distraction, however. He hadn't fully realized how useful a distraction it was having Caitlin nearby. Whenever he began to feel stressed or overwhelmed, whether by the work of the day or by the intrusive thoughts of Allison, he knew Caitlin was just down the hall—that he could have lunch with her, or stop for a cup of coffee, or simply drop by her office for a chat. Leonard found himself getting up often to make the rounds between the research lab, his office, and the coffee pot, trying to do anything to keep his mind from lingering on that disc, safely tucked away in his box of memories at his apartment.

It wasn't enough.

"You look lost."

Leonard turned from where he stood in the hallway. Steve was standing there. As always there seemed to be a grin ready to break out on his face at any moment. "You know she's not in her office today," he added.

Leonard blinked back his reverie. "Hey, Steve." He hadn't really meant to stare down the hall toward Caitlin's office door. It was just that it was nearly time to leave, and time to leave meant time to go home. Valerie had gymnastics tonight, which meant he would be alone all evening with nothing to do but think—about doing something he shouldn't do.

He shrugged in his embarrassment at being caught apparently pining for Caitlin to return. "I guess I don't really know what to do with myself now it's time to leave."

"Why don't you join me for a drink?" Steve suggested. "My wife's staying late at the office tonight herself. It'll give us both something to do."

Leonard couldn't help but feel flattered at that. Certainly since they shared an office he had a lot of contact with the department head, but it was gratifying to know that Steve would think of him as something of a friend and even notice that he was in need of a distraction. "That sounds great; I just need to make a call first."

"There's a little Irish pub I like to go to for drinks—I don't really think it's in your neighborhood, but I do believe you'd enjoy the atmosphere." Steve's tone was low and earnest, like he was sharing a treasured secret. "They have, on tap, the best dark ale I have ever had the privilege of tasting."

"Sounds great," Leonard replied with a genuine smile. Just the sort of thing he needed tonight to distract himself from the issues on his mind. "Be right back." He headed back to his office and called up Valerie's COM pad; she didn't answer, but she returned his call shortly.

"Hey, Leonard," she said.

"Hi," he said. "I was wondering if you thought you'd be able to stay the night at Mahala's tonight. I was thinking of going out tonight with my boss and I don't want you to be left alone when it gets dark."

Truth of the matter was, despite the new limits he had put on her spending the night, there had been enough of these occasions for exception lately that the request didn't seem all that unusual. "Let me check," she said. "Yeah, she's nodding at me."

Guilt assaulted him for an instant—she hadn't even needed to ask. Soon enough he'd stop needing her to ask, he determined. He'd bring her in to work in his new lab or something. Anything to avoid her feeling like Allison always felt, always unwanted and unneeded.

"Okay, sunshine," he said. He didn't know why that came out, other than his thoughts about keeping her from feeling expendable. He did love her, even if he struggled to show it. But he hadn't called her that in years. "I'll see you when you get out of school tomorrow."

"Sssure," she said, and he knew she was put off by his use of the nickname. Oh well. He'd do better from now on.

What Steve said was true, the atmosphere at the pub was nice; it was a good place to relax and have a quiet discussion. The problem was that after the small talk the conversation veered toward the war. It was a common topic of interest in the department, of course, since their work was meant to contribute to the war effort—whenever that breakthrough was made that would allow them to make AIs from those holographic scans. But for whatever reason Steve decided to bring up the fact that they had both lost someone during the attacks on Harvest. Leonard froze when Steve started down that road. He had already been trying to fight the memories and thoughts of Allison off all day, and now this.

Steve talked for several minutes about his brother, about how he learned about his brother's death, about how he had missed his twin in the ensuing years. Leonard forced himself to nod as he listened sympathetically to Steve's reminiscences. As long as he didn't have to input anything to the topic, he would be able to hold things together fine. "I'm sorry," Steve finally said, interrupting himself almost mid-sentence. "I don't mean to dominate the conversation. It was your girlfriend, wasn't it?"

Leonard shook his head tightly. "My wife," he finally managed to say when he had cleared the sudden lump from his throat. Such a tiny little word to try to sum up everything she had meant to him! Four letters could never do it justice. He blinked and coughed a bit to try to cover up how upset he had suddenly become, try to press past the feeling and offer a few of his own remembrances. Surely he could at least say something about how he missed her smile or her laugh, something.

As he struggled, Steve pressed his lips into a sympathetic sort of thin-lipped smile, taking Leonard's entangled fists between his hands and giving them a reassuring shake. "I'm sorry, son," he said.

Leonard felt a flash of irritation, wondering how he had become so pathetic that the man felt the need to call him that. "I think I'm going to step out for a cigarette," he mumbled. He stood and started to pull on his coat. Never mind the fact that he didn't have any on him—he had quit a number of years ago. He'd bum a smoke off of someone outside if he had to. He just suddenly needed to get out—

"Actually, I think I'm ready to head home." Steve took one last swig of his drink—not quite finishing it—and stood, holding out his hand for Leonard to shake. "It was nice spending the evening with you, Dr. Church. Next time I'll be sure to keep to more pleasant topics of conversation."

"It's okay," Leonard lied. "Really. I think this beer is just getting to me more than I thought." He nudged his glass, the one that had held his second pint of the lauded dark ale, to emphasize his words. Even though the conversation had become momentarily uncomfortable, he didn't really want to leave. He knew that if he walked in his door…especially now…

"Well, you might walk around a bit before you get in your car, then," Steve said. "And, Leonard, get a good night's sleep tonight. I think you're just a bit stressed."

It was a good plan, and Leonard did just as Steve had suggested, walking around the neighborhood for a good hour before he headed home. He needed to get right to bed as soon as he got in the door. A good night's sleep would find his resolve not to work on the Allison AI as strong as ever, he knew. The events of the day and the bent he had allowed his thoughts to take were the source of this inappropriate temptation. He knew he was strong enough not to give in. Even if things with Caitlin eventually failed, he would know that he had not given in and broken the promise he had made to himself to stay loyal to her.

Leonard did just as he had intended, heading straight to the bedroom to dress for bed. He pulled the covers over himself and turned out the light in record time. If he was asleep, he knew, there wouldn't be a problem.

But sleep was unmerciful to him and would not come. It was dark and still. The bed seemed cold and lonely without Caitlin lying there next to him. The prospect he had been trying to avoid all day was the only thing he could think about, there in the darkness alone. There was one fact that could not now be silenced or ignored. Not when he was alone in the privacy of his own home, with that disc a mere twenty paces from being clutched in his hands.

_Caitlin will never know._

* * *

Normally if a call had come in at that time of the morning, he would have already been awake and getting ready for work. She had probably been careful to time things that way; she was always thoughtful like that. Instead, the chime for the incoming call barely managed to penetrate the fog in his head. He had finally let his mind go blank the night before, deciding not to contemplate what he was allowing himself to do, and arose to succumb to his temptation, like a moth to flame. He wasn't really sure how he'd gone from being so reluctant to pull out that disc to immersing himself in the project so deeply…but it wasn't long before he remembered how far he was from finding a solution. All it had done was frustrate him. That's when he had gotten the bottle of bourbon out of the cabinet. After that his recollections were a bit fuzzy. All he knew was that according to the sloshing sensation in his head, he was going to be forced to go into work late to take some time to recover.

At any rate, that chime was ringing, and on instinct he rolled over and selected the call instead of letting it go to voicemail. "Hello," he grunted.

"Leonard? …Are you asleep?"

"I was," he said, trying to shake off the slumber. He was pretty sure he failed.

"You were drinking last night," she murmured.

There was a moment of silence. He let that be his response. He wondered what Caitlin was thinking. She had become incredibly opposed to him drinking, afraid that with his mother's history of substance abuse and mental illness, it was inevitable that he would spiral out of control. He had certainly done a good job making it appear that she had been correct in that, hadn't he? He groaned a bit to himself, rubbing his face. That slight headache he had felt when he first awakened was quickly becoming a force to be reckoned with.

"Well," she said, crestfallen. "Well. I'm just, wow." Leonard squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he could somehow ignore her disappointed tone. "…Today's a work day for you, you know."

"Steve took me out for drinks last night. He knew I was having a hard time with you being gone. He'll understand if I need to come in late." He covered his face with his forearm. Where had that resolve gone to be completely honest with her, to do everything he could to repair things? Here he was implying things about the night before that just weren't true—and worst of all was knowing the way he had completely failed in his resolve to never work on Allison's AI as long as his relationship with Caitlin was still intact. He felt guilty, ashamed. He'd been annoyed with himself for appearing pathetic last night, but given another few hours and he had completely fulfilled that appearance.

"Oh… Wow, Steve did. Well."

Leonard felt a flash of irritation. Obviously she was a bit shocked, but it would help if she would at least string together a coherent sentence to talk to him about it. "Yeah, Steve did. We had a guy's night out. Is that okay with you?"

She paused. "Yeah, of course. You're an adult. If you want to go out and get smashed in front of your boss, that's your decision."

"I didn't 'get smashed', Caitlin. I had to drive home from the bar. I knew when to stop."

"Clearly," she said, and sighed. "Okay, look, I didn't call to fight with you. I've got my interview in about an hour and I… I just wanted to hear your voice before I went in."

Leonard pushed his arm back off of his face and onto his forehead, licking his lips. That was the most affectionate thing she had said in a long time. "Hey, you're going to be amazing, Cate. You're going to blow them away."

She stood silent for a moment. "You… That…that means a lot to me." The slight sound of her sniffling came over the COM and Leonard figured he knew what she was thinking then—how they were supposed to be doing this together, and how Leonard had screwed that up for her.

He sighed. "Cate, you know I'll support you in anything you do." He hesitated a moment. A once-familiar phrase came to him, one neither of them had said in a long time—the words 'I love you'. Would she even want to hear it from him right now?

Was it even true?

The hesitation cost him, because after a moment it was too late. "I have to go now. Don't…don't drink anymore while I'm gone. Okay?"

He had already lied to her enough in this conversation, and he had a feeling if he agreed, he would find himself breaking his word again. He closed his eyes before answering. "I'll try."

"Yeah," she said, clearly disappointed. "It's for me, okay? Do it for me?"

"I'll try," he repeated. The soft beep that signaled the end of a call sounded and Leonard rolled onto his back again, rubbing his face in exasperation. What a disaster of a conversation.

After some time of trying to will the pain in his head to disappear, he shuffled carefully to the bathroom, holding on to the walls of the hallway. He had probably been speaking with a slur during the call; no wonder Caitlin had sounded so disappointed in him. When he returned to the bedroom he curled up on the bed with a groan. One thing was sure, he was not going to have a repeat of what had happened the night before.

It was last minute, but when he called in Steve insisted he take the whole day off. That gave him several hours to get rid of his hangover and get his head on straight before his daughter was due home from school. The first thing he did, of course, was sleep, followed by a shower. He checked the time—he had about three hours he could waste until Valerie came home. He knew what he would choose if left to his own devices. It was so exasperating, knowing how little self-control he had when it came to that disc.

On the spur of the moment, he grabbed his coat off its hook and headed out the door. He was going to get something good out of Caitlin's absence if it killed him. Before long he was pulling up to the middle school Valerie attended, and parking the car. He stepped out of the vehicle and looked at the edifice before him. How had Valerie gotten old enough to be in eighth grade, anyway? How had that happened?

He went to the office and had them call her down so he could sign her out of school. She eyed him once she reached the office but didn't speak to him until they were leaving. "Why are you here?" she asked as they went down the hall toward the doors.

"To make up for yesterday," he said. "Since I had you stay with Mahala last minute."

"What does that mean?" she said. "You've never tried to 'make up' for that before. I don't understand."

"Look, we'll go home and…do whatever. Whatever you want."

"So I can watch _Arcadia_ instead of doing my homework?" she asked skeptically.

"Not instead of," he said. "But we can take some time for that."

"We?" she said. "You want to watch _Arcadia_?"

"No, it's not exactly my thing, is it?" he said with a sardonic chuckle. "We can watch _Arcadia_ and then we can make dinner together. How's that sound?"

"Whatever. You just don't know what to do with yourself without Caitlin to take up all your time," she said.

"No… Well, somewhat, but we haven't spent enough time together lately." He could probably have left the word 'lately' off of that, he knew, but one step at a time.

"Okay," she said, eyeing him again as they got into the car. "Can we make those homemade tortillas?"

"Whatever you want," he repeated.

The reality was a bit different.

_Arcadia_ was truly not Leonard's thing. It was sort of a teenage soap opera, set on the well-known inner colony planet of the same name. Valerie kept explaining to him who was who and who had done what and he found himself truly and utterly not caring. He excused himself, explaining that he was going to spend just a little while on a project, and slipped into the office. He decided to work on more grants and other paperwork for starting up the lab. Grant writing was not his area of expertise; he found he needed to spend more time researching how to write for a grant than he spent actually putting words on a screen. It was important though, very important. Researching which grants to apply for was important too. There was surely more than one piece of funding available to a researcher like him.

He lost all track of time as he worked, and was deep in concentration when he suddenly realized how late it had become. He stood all at once and went out of the office, knowing that Valerie would be quite hungry by now and ready for those tortillas.

But there she sat, at the kitchen table, eating a sandwich instead. "Hey, Leonard," she said.

"Valerie," he said, disappointment audible in his tone. "I told you we would cook dinner. You could have come and gotten me."

"It's okay," she said, though it was clearly not. She dropped her gaze to her sandwich. "You were busy. I understand."

He sighed. Maybe this was still salvageable. "Did you do your homework while you were waiting?" he asked.

"No," she said. "You said I could watch _Arcadia._"

"You did watch it," he said, an edge of irritation in his voice. "Now you don't have time for anything else. Make sure to start on your homework when you're done eating."

She made her mouth flat, in a line. "I was going to," she muttered.

"You want to do your work in my office?" he said. "I can clear Caitlin's desk."

She shook her head, her lips pursed distastefully. "No, thank you."

"All right. I'll come see you before bed time."

She eyed him once again. "Sure. See you then."

It was disappointing when he arrived at her door later and found the light already turned out. He could have sworn she was in the habit of going to bed later than this. He held the door open for a moment, then nudged it closed. At least this afforded him the chance to get a little work on that Allison AI—just a little work. Not much. He'd promised himself it wouldn't be much.

* * *

Valerie held still when the door swung open, shoulders stiff against the mattress. After the door gently closed she pulled her COM pad back out.

_\- i was right. he didn't even check to see if i was awake_

Mahala's return message arrived instantly. - _why don't you just tell him you want to move out_

_\- i should_

_\- do it. tell him you hate him and you have a better family with me_

_\- it would kill him. it really would. you should have seen how he was after my mom died_

_\- let it kill him then_

Valerie frowned at her COM pad, shifted against her pillow, and tossed the device to the floor.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Slow Dancing In A Burning Room - John Mayer  
_The two are becoming more distant_

Mad World - Gary Jules  
_Once Leonard is left to his own devices he simply returns to his default state - obsessed with Allison's memory, even when thoughts of his daughter intrude_

On Melancholy Hill - Gorillaz  
_Going to the pub with Steve doesn't do anything to deter him from working on Allison's AI_


	45. Chapter 45

He was oddly relieved when Caitlin's trip was over and it was time to go to the airport to pick her up again. Despite his struggle over it that first time, he had ended up digging into the code for Allison's AI with relish at every opportunity he got. Worse than that, his guilt for doing it had vanished. No, he couldn't just abandon it.

But now it was time to reset his mind, and go back to repairing things with Caitlin. He couldn't let himself be distracted by that now that she was going to be near. He couldn't let himself be so weak.

He saw her making her way from the concourse to the baggage claim, where he was waiting. He waved, and she gave him a gentle smile as she approached.

It was kind of strange, being around each other again after being apart for that long. It had only been four days, but it seemed that it had been so much longer. He put his arm around her as he greeted her, and she returned the gesture with a light squeeze, but it felt awkward somehow, like they had forgotten how they fitted together. "Welcome home."

She pulled away from him to begin searching for her bag. "Thanks."

He put his hands in his coat pockets, hanging back to allow her to locate the piece of luggage and hand it to him after she had turned. "I'm so tired," she finally volunteered. "There was so much going on in addition to the interviews I barely found the time to sleep."

He took the bag from her and began to carry it back to where he had parked. "Not much time to call either, I guess," he remarked. Not that he'd been all that particularly eager to hear from her, considering how he had been spending all of his free time. But it didn't seem like her only to call twice, as she had ended up doing.

"Yeah, well. Like I said." She shrugged. "There was a lot to do."

He gave her a sidelong glance. "So… How was the interview?"

She paused, and when she spoke, she didn't turn to look at him. "If they offer me a job, I'm going to take it."

What a response. Though he suspected that would be the case, it hit him harder than he anticipated. "I know."

Neither of them spoke again until they had entered the apartment. Leonard noticed the way Caitlin looked around, almost as though she had never seen the place before. He walked into the bedroom to put her bag on the bed and returned, finding her still standing there in the living room.

"You know," she said, gesturing to the door, "it's only midmorning. I think you should go ahead and go up to the lab. I'm just going to be sleeping. My internal clock is all messed up."

"We both have the day off," Leonard replied.

Caitlin shook her head. "I want you to go. I'm just going to be sleeping. You're not going to miss out on anything."

"I guess you're right," Leonard conceded. He had kind of assumed she would want to tell him all kinds of stories about her trip—in fact, he was surprised how eager he was to hear them—but if she was that tired, there didn't seem to be much point in hanging around when there were more productive things he could be doing.

The previous day had been his field research day—that, along with a few recent absences, gave him plenty to do around the lab. Besides the students who were in the lab seeking assistance, there were the normal duties creating code to compile and gathering data for reports. He was so busy that he didn't leave the lab until late in the afternoon. When he did, he happened to pass by Caitlin's office, and suddenly the ordinariness of the day was shattered. The door had been propped open, and with just a quick glance it was easy to see that Caitlin's desk and work area had been completely cleared.

He felt a strange twinge in his chest. He walked back to the office he shared with Steve. "Steve. Did Caitlin come by here today?"

Steve looked up from his desk. Leonard couldn't help but notice how subdued Steve was, totally unlike his usual effusive self. "Yes, she was. She left a couple of hours ago." He paused. "I'm not privy to all the details, as well I shouldn't be, but Leonard…I do believe you'll want to go home and speak to her about them."

"Thanks," Leonard said quietly before heading out to his car. He had predicted this—even if he had been in denial at times, he knew it was coming—but still, he couldn't help feeling a hollowness in the pit of his stomach as he drove home.

The sight that greeted him when he opened the apartment door was, though heart-wrenching, entirely what he was expecting. Caitlin had packed all of her things. A row of moving boxes lined the entryway and her suitcase was propped against the wall alongside them.

She was sitting on the armchair in the living room. He didn't need to ask what she was doing. The look on her face—the resolve in her eyes, the heavyhearted turn to her mouth—told him all. He closed the door behind him, then sat down on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees.

He bit his lips together for a moment before he spoke. "So, this is it, then?"

She nodded.

"Really? I mean, just like that." No, this hadn't been unexpected, but it really didn't sit well with him that she would try to sneak off behind his back. It seemed cowardly. "Were you planning to talk to me about this at all?"

"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" she snapped. "I'm not going to change my mind, that's all."

"Okay, fine." He put his hands up as though in surrender and sank back into the couch cushions. He started to run his hand through his hair, but pulled it back when he realized how cold his fingers were. He glanced down at his hands in confusion. Were they…shaking?

There was a pause. Caitlin stared vacantly as she chewed on one of her fingernails, then put her hand down and looked at it. "I thought I could deal with what happened. I was trying to find some way we could work it out, but…"

Leonard sighed, enlacing his fingers and putting his hands behind his head. "I know it's seemed like I've changed a lot, but that's my fault, Cate. I should have told you what I was thinking of doing a long time before I did."

She shook her head. "No… You haven't changed at all. You've always loved Allison too much to let her go." Her eyes squeezed shut for an instant. "It really gets to a girl, you know? Playing second fiddle to a dead person." She shrugged. "How can I compete with that?"

Leonard paused. "I thought this was about the lab."

Caitlin let out an exasperated sigh. "It's all the same thing with you."

His first impulse was to ask what she meant by that, but he wasn't sure he would like the answer. He became suddenly aware of a flushed feeling climbing up his back and decided to leave that subject alone. "Well… Where are you going to go? You're going to just pack your things up and leave?"

"I'm staying at a hotel tonight. Tomorrow I'm buying a ticket out to Epsilon Eridani—"

Leonard couldn't help letting his jaw drop. "Wait, you're going to Reach?"

"Eventually, yes." She at least had the decency to look embarrassed; obviously, she had deceived him earlier, not telling him outright that she had already been hired. "I don't have a start date yet; it'll probably be in a few months. But my grandparents live on Tribute, so I'm going to go visit with them for a while. I haven't seen them since I graduated high school." She motioned back toward the boxes that sat in the entryway. "Anyway, there's a shipping company coming after that stuff tomorrow—uh, they couldn't give me an exact time…"

Leonard raised an eyebrow at that. Was she seriously trying to ask him to do her a favor? "I guess you'll need to come back in the morning to meet them, then."

Caitlin bit her lip. "Right. I'll do that."

He pulled his arms down and set his hands in his lap, realizing that they were still shaking. This conversation was so incredibly awkward. Neither of them would look the other in the face. "This, uh, isn't really a surprise to me, you know."

She pulled a face—Leonard wasn't sure if it was a grimace or an expression of relief or what. "You know how I am with making decisions." She covered her mouth briefly and studied the nails on that hand. She cleared her throat before she spoke again. "I wasn't sure I would ever do it."

He couldn't help letting his tone become just a touch sarcastic. "_Well_, then… I guess getting away from here must have helped you make up your mind."

She was blinking rapidly, obviously trying to avoid showing that her eyes were misting up, and looked down at the floor. "In a way. I'm only giving in to something that happened a long time ago."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He sat back and scoffed. "You were only staying here until you knew what the outcome of the interview was, huh? Just to have a place to stay until you knew whether you were going to be moving off-world?"

"No, Leonard. That's not what I'm talking about." Caitlin looked at him now, annoyed. "You seriously think I was just using you until I knew what my options were?"

"No, not really," he conceded. That wouldn't be like her at all. "…What _were_ you talking about?"

"I meant that we've been going in two different directions for a long time now, and there's no way to reconcile them. If I looked at this with my emotions…" She paused, setting her chin in her hands, her fingers covering her mouth for a moment before she sat up straight again. "I suppose I spent a long time wishing I could make you behave differently. I really had to realize that it's not that you've changed, but just that my perception of who you were was wrong."

Leonard drummed his fingers on his knee for an instant. "If you looked at this with your emotions, what?"

Caitlin rolled her eyes and then squeezed them shut, with a small shake of her head. "Does it matter?"

"Not really, I guess." He shrugged. "I'm just curious since you were so concerned about me that first time you called."

She allowed a moment of silence to hang before she replied. "That was the start of it, really," she admitted. "After I hung up, I realized that you're working on some kind of breakdown, and I haven't been able to dissuade you from it. You won't listen to me about counseling, you won't listen to me about the drinking…" Caitlin's mouth hardened into a tight line and she swallowed hard, grimacing. There was a long silence and Leonard cast his gaze away, allowing her to press through the moment. "…Then after that, while I was waiting for them to call me in for the interview, I started talking to this guy, and then he asked me if I was doing anything for dinner that night. So I went on a date with him—oh, we didn't call it that, but about halfway through dinner I realized that's exactly what it was." Leonard's eyebrows had shot upward when the word 'date' crossed her lips. When she saw his reaction, her words started to tumble out faster, punctuating the final phrase of her declaration with bitterness. "And then I realized—I want to be able to get to know this guy, or anyone else who wants to get to know me, and I don't want to have to deal with your baggage anymore."

Leonard leaned forward again, resting his elbow on his knee and his forehead on his hand, staring down at the floor. After a moment he shook his head and chuckled lightly.

Caitlin sat up straight and looked at him, confused. "What?"

Leonard looked up at her. "I never expected this from you."

"Expected what?" She scoffed. "Sorry, but after the way you've been acting in the last few months, I think you should be glad I put up with you for so long."

"Yes, you're so selfless," Leonard agreed sarcastically. "That's right. That's why you went behind my back while you were gone, abused my trust—"

"_Trust_?" She shook her head, crossing her arms and squeezing her upper arms with her hands. "There is no trust here anymore, Leonard. You ruined that a long time ago. If I thought I could trust you to tell me things, I wouldn't have had to go and figure stuff out for myself."

He curled his lip in bewilderment. "Figure what out?"

She gave a one-shouldered shrug. "What you've been doing behind my back."

Still confused, Leonard cocked his head. "Just what does _that_ mean?"

She shook her head. "Just, you know, you won't need to pretend you're keeping a journal anymore, that's all. It's funny how there's so much code in that file, isn't it?"

"What the fuck?!" he spat out after a moment of mute agitation. "Did you seriously just admit to snooping around in my private files?"

"I didn't know what else to do." She readjusted the way her arms were crossed and shifted in her chair. "I knew if I asked you, I wouldn't get a straight answer. I had to look for myself."

"Yeah, well, good for you. I'm sure you feel great about that." Leonard stood up and gestured toward her bag. "So, how about you get the hell out of my apartment now? I need to get on with my life."

Caitlin stood as well. "You know, I really don't feel good about it. Half of me feels like I'm abandoning you to spiral out of control. But I also know that if I stay, I can't do anything to stop it. And I can't be here to watch that happen. I care about you too much to be able to stand it."

"You c…?" Leonard couldn't help laughing at that. "I'm sorry, have you been sitting here having the same conversation I've been having?"

"Believe what you want." She turned and picked up her coat, threading her arms into the sleeves as she spoke. "All I know is you're delusional with the thought that you might be able to bring your wife back from the dead through an AI—obsessed with trying to do the impossible. You can't bring a person back, no matter what kind of technology you have at your disposal."

"You don't know anything about it," he sneered.

"What do you mean? We have the same degree in AI Engineering, Leonard. I know _all_ about it. You're going to fail at this, sooner or later." She raised her hands in a helpless gesture as she shrugged. "And when you do, you'll realize what you lost when you pushed me away."

He rankled at her words. She really thought she was superior to him. And she went around accusing _him_ of being arrogant! "You can't tell me that if you had the chance to bring your father back—"

She jammed her finger into the air in front of Leonard's face. "Don't you fucking _dare_! I might have lost my father to this war, but that doesn't mean I'm in denial about it! It wouldn't do any good to even _try_!"

He deflected her arm away with a scowl. She returned the look with a shake of her head and turned to get her suitcase. With a sigh she picked it up, not turning her head to look back at him. "I'll slip my key under the door tomorrow after the shipping company comes by."

Leonard raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Get out."

Caitlin pulled the door open, picked up her bag, and stepped out into the hall. Then she turned to look at him one last time. She was once again blinking back tears, but her tone was unwavering. "Goodbye, Dr. Leonard Church. I hope I never hear your name again."

"Goodbye, Dr. Caitlin Suh." As she walked away, a wave of bitterness engulfed his heart, and he couldn't help letting a grim smile spread on his face. "But I promise you," he called after her, "you will!"

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

Hey Ya - Obadiah Parker  
_Leonard knows as well as Catilin that things are going to fall apart_

Into Dust - Mazzy Star  
_Their relationship has dissolved into nothing and now all that remains is to formally break it off_

Nobody's Side - Chess Official Broadway Cast Recording  
_Caitlin realizes she needs to put herself before her relationship_

Comfort of Strangers - Beth Orton  
_Caitlin is ready to move on even though it means starting a new chapter in her life_

Lovesong (Another Fucking) - Amiel  
_Caitlin has had it with Leonard's living in the past and decides to leave_

Roar - Katy Perry  
_Caitlin loses her patience with him and asserts herself_

Rolling In The Deep - Adele  
_Caitlin sometimes thinks about how good things were before they went bad_


	46. Chapter 46

After the door closed behind her, Leonard realized his heart was racing. He sucked in a deep breath. Why was he reacting this way? The end had been clearly in sight for some time. The timing couldn't have been better, actually. He had finally begun to see how much baggage she had become for him, burdening him down just as he had been starting to find his own way. And now—to learn that she had been snooping around in his business! What a fucking betrayal! He quaked with anger at the thought of her opening those files and reading what was there, meant for his eyes only.

He grabbed Allison, stormed into his office, and plopped into his chair. As he shrugged off his coat, he noticed the holostill of him and Caitlin still sitting on his desk. He seemed to hear an echo of her voice during their final argument, saying she cared too much about him to stay. What a ridiculous lie! He snatched up the frame and flung it toward the wall, not sparing a look to see where it ultimately landed.

He switched on the terminal screen, inserted Allison's disc in the drive and, opening the dummy journal file, found the place in his code where he had last been working. But he couldn't focus—his mind was awhirl with emotion. Frustrated, he sat forward, shoving his face into his hands. He still wasn't breathing quite evenly. The walls seemed to be closing in on him; there were too many memories in this office, in this apartment. He wanted to stay and work on this, become detached from what had just occurred and immerse himself in the project. But it was too soon, he simply couldn't fend off the feelings.

After taking a moment to attempt to calm himself, he reluctantly slipped his coat back on. He had only found solace in one thing lately. It was time to find a proper place to indulge.

* * *

The first drink he ordered was a gin, straight up. He didn't particularly like the taste of gin, but he remembered the smell of it from when he was young. His mother used to drink it.

The drink loosened his mind just a bit and he ordered a second one. That smell was so distinctive…

He closed his eyes, obscuring the sight of the bar under its low blue-tinted lights.

_He was sitting outside his childhood home, under the glow of a yellow streetlamp. The cold concrete of the curbstone curved under his thighs, making an uncomfortable spot to perch. He gripped the edge of it with the heels of his palms; his feet shuffled in the silt that had settled in the gutter the last time it had rained. _

_He traced a square into the grit with the toe of his sneaker. A triangle began to form on top of the square, for a roof, but he heard that sound again, the sound he had come out to escape, and the house he had sketched in the dust was spoiled. His feet kicked out and his hands cupped over his ears to block the noise. His mother's voice was echoing down the street as she shrieked so loudly at his father—everyone in the neighborhood must know there was another argument raging in the Church household. _

_As the volume of the discourse increased, their silhouettes could be seen blocking the light though the front doorway. His mother's barefoot form became visible in the light of the streetlamp, only wearing a bra with her jeans; his father was gripping her elbows, guiding her firmly from behind. Her back arched as she resisted, digging her feet in and trying to move her arms out of his grasp. _

_Lenny turned his face away from the sight and squeezed his eyes shut._

Leonard shook his head. He never knew why he thought alcohol would help calm his mind when all it did was bring his memories roiling back to the surface. He motioned the bartender over and paid her for the drinks before he slipped out into the chilly evening.

_"Larry!" Her body wrenched halfway around, upsetting her husband's balance. "I don't even have a shirt on!"_

_"You haven't been taking your medication." Lawrence's accusation rang out just as audibly despite his attempt to speak in a lower tone. "If you're going to act like this I'm taking you to the psych ward right now—"_

_"I have been taking it!" She managed to turn all the way around and pushed her way past Lawrence into the house. "At least let me get a shirt on! Lenny's watching!"_

_Lawrence's eyes peered out into the night, finally spotting Lenny sitting in the semicircle of yellow light. "Lenny! You're supposed to be in bed!"_

_His mouth opened to protest, but words failed him. He felt so very small. How could he explain the way their shouts pierced his bedroom door, pierced his mind, robbed him of sleep? _

_His stomach churned as he trudged inside. His mother was sitting on the couch and she motioned for him to come over to her. The smell of the gin she had consumed washed over him as he walked up to stand near her._

Leonard started to walk back to his building. Gin was too slow, he decided. He had a fondness for bourbon, and there were a couple of bottles at home in the cabinet. It would be better to get a buzz on at home so he could sleep before he was irresponsibly drunk. And when he got in he should see about Valerie spending the night at her friend's.

_His mother put one of her arms over his skinny shoulders. He did his best to stand still, despite the way he wanted to turn around to curl up into her lap and cry. "Larry, how are you going to take care of Lenny if I'm in the hospital tomorrow? You have classes all day. Who's going to get him to school?"_

_Lawrence shook his head. "You know I'm only trying to make things better, Neira. When I graduate I'll be able to spend more time with you two." _

_He felt his mother's arms pulling him onto her lap, clasping him firmly as she glared accusingly at Lawrence over his shoulder. "You are such a fucking liar. You're a workaholic, Larry. You'll get that damn degree and then you'll expect a promotion. I know you're going to try for partner in the firm."_

_Lawrence took Lenny's arm and motioned him back to his bedroom. He felt the coolness of the sheets under his back as he lay back down, not bothering to pull off his sneakers. The sounds of his parents' shouting continued and he felt the burning of tears behind his eyelids as he squeezed his eyes shut. He pulled his pillow over his ears, pressing it to the sides of his head with his elbows, turning the voices into muffled gibberish. _

When Leonard reached the apartment he got the bottles of bourbon from the cabinet and brought them to the bedroom so he could get undressed. Everything seemed to take a ridiculously long time, as though he were trudging through a sludge of bad memories and ruined hopes.

After he flopped onto his bed and set his glasses aside he felt relief flood his body. Now he had nothing to do; nothing at all, but spend some time in a sweet stupor, drink to quiet his mind and switch off those bad memories. He turned to rearrange the pillows into a seat for him to recline on—he had them all to himself now. Finally, propped awkwardly up against the headboard, he swilled a gulp of the bourbon for every memory that came unbidden to the surface. Sooner or later he would be able to shut them up.

_Despite the padded chair, he found his seat at Allison's memorial service strangely uncomfortable. He had been unable to say the words he had planned for the eulogy. It was far too overwhelming; though he tried to collect his thoughts enough to speak, he found himself almost openly weeping at the mic stand. His father had rescued him, took the paper from his hands and read the text, nudging him to return to the front row. Valerie climbed into his lap, clinging to him like a spider monkey, and he trembled and tried to pull himself together._

_But he was so very helpless to regain his composure. After the words were spoken, the few people who had attended shuffled by, embracing him and his daughter, but he barely saw any of their faces. There was no one whose grief could match his. No one could begin to understand the way this had devastated him._

That one deserved two drinks. Before the first one, he raised the bottle heaven-ward as a toast to Allison. Then he waved it in the general direction of the front door. "And here's to you, bitch!" He tipped his head back, swallowed swiftly, and then slumped back.

_Caitlin carried in the last box, following him with the one he was carrying. Luckily she'd been renting a furnished studio before this, so she only had a few boxes of things to bring over, and they were able to fit it all in Leonard's car. They each set a box on the far side of the living room. Valerie had disappeared into her bedroom after carrying in her box, and Caitlin glanced around before turning to him._

_"She's still angry," Caitlin said, "isn't she?"_

_"I told you, it'll be okay," Leonard said. "Kids don't like change."_

_She sighed, setting a hand demurely on his chest. "It's just been really tricky and it's not getting any easier for her with this."_

_"Look," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm glad you're thoughtful of how she feels. But you can't change it. She'll get used to it in time and it'll all be fine."_

_"I know," she said._

_"All right," he replied, and tugged her closer against his chest. _

_She lowered her hand to wrap her arms around his waist. She lifted her face and kissed him tenderly at his jaw line. He bent his head and kissed her deeply, deeply, and she met him in kind._

No; he didn't want to think about that backstabbing bitch. Why were his eyes filling with tears? He blinked them back and took a drink, a smaller one this time. A hazy thought came to him—that wasn't right, was it? He couldn't recall now; was he drinking to remember, or to forget?

_For a moment time stood still as Allison spoke to him, a part of his mind realizing what she was getting at while the rest of him went numb. Her blue eyes were captivating him, as though she could look inside of him. His gaze suddenly focused on the shape of her lips as they formed those sweet words, words he would go on to savor in his mind for years afterward. "Yes," she said. "Whatever it means, if you want a relationship with me, I'm saying yes."_

_His paralysis broke instantly as he pressed himself against her, relishing the feeling as he hoisted her in his arms, their breath mingling as they kissed hotly, making their way up the stairs with stumbling haste. Everything he had done for her leading up to this, the months, no, years of waiting and hoping and doing everything he knew to gain her trust again, was all worth it when he saw the way that her resistance to him had been stripped away that day. Oh, she was so beautiful. So very beautiful._

He took a long pull, closing his eyes to linger over the memory.

_He was staring at the ceiling as he lay on the bed, the bed they had once shared, insensible to how long he had lain there. He had dozed and awakened so many times—maybe dozens, maybe hundreds—watching the dappled patterns of sunlight or streetlights as they shifted on the painted surface, simply allowing his feelings of lethargy to wash over him._

_There came a rap at the door; after a pause Lawrence entered, not bothering to wait for Leonard to respond. He'd come to spend a couple of weeks there with them; the help was appreciated, but right now Leonard couldn't find it within himself to acknowledge his father when he entered. Lawrence found a stool to sit on and perched on it, his elbows on his knees. _

_"It's a nice day out." _

_Leonard knew what his father was trying to do. He only blinked in response._

_"We should go out for dinner. You need to get out of this house and get some fresh air."_

_Leonard's mouth felt odd as he opened it, like it had rusted shut—it had been so long since he'd found any reason to speak. "I'm not really hungry."_

_Lawrence sighed. "We've been giving you a lot of space, Len, but you need to get up and eat something."_

_Leonard shook his head. "I just don't want to."_

_"It's not doing you any good to lie here and wallow," Lawrence said. He lifted his hands as though to pantomime an illustration for what he was about to explain. "Look… After your mother left—" _

_"Don't talk to me about that like it's the same thing I'm going through," Leonard snapped. _

_Lawrence dropped his hands again, leaning back a bit to sit upright. "It's just that it occurs to me that Allison had a tendency not to discuss her decisions with you. It's very similar—" _

_"If I go eat dinner, will you stop talking about this?" Leonard sat up on the edge of the bed, clenching his fists in agitation. "Because I really don't want to hear it."_

_Lawrence paused. Leonard glanced at his face and saw that he was blinking against tears of pity that had welled up in his eyes. "Yes, I will, son."_

His father, so kind. He tried, anyway. Leonard pulled another long draft, letting the tears come now. Maybe he should call his father, talk to him now—talk to him about all those things he had so stubbornly concealed in the aftermath of Allison's death. His body jolted as he tried to heave himself to a sitting position, but his unsteadiness barred him from completing the action, and he shakily sagged against the pillows.

_The high-backed chair was hard and too big for his small body. He shifted uncomfortably in his two-sizes-too-big button-down shirt, staring down at his sneakers. He didn't have any dressy shoes. There was dried mud clinging to the outer sole and he reached down to scrape at the crust with his thumbnail. _

_The adults who sat in the plush leather chairs were talking about him. He heard them using his name a lot, along with his mother's name, Neira, and using big words like "custody" and "abandonment"._

_ The fat man in the suit who sat behind the big wooden desk glared at the mess the boy was making. Lenny fidgeted, wishing they would stop talking like his mother was never coming back. Of course she would. She was his mother—even if she was kind of crazy. He knew she hadn't meant what she'd said about him. She couldn't have. Besides, how did they know that when she failed to return she hadn't been kidnapped or something, anyway? She could actually be in danger and here they were talking about her in an office instead of sending a detective out to find her._

_Lawrence sat down next to him. Lenny didn't acknowledge his father's return; he just kept scraping the brown spots from the bottom of his shoe. _

_"You ready to go, Lenny? We're all done here."_

_Lenny didn't remove his eyes from his handiwork. "Is she coming back?"_

_Lawrence didn't speak for a moment. The words came out with a stifled sigh. "No, Lenny, she won't be coming back."_

_Lenny set his mouth obstinately. "How do you know?" _

_"She's made it clear."_

_Flakes of dirt fell off his shoe and he changed the angle of his foot to find more of the encrusted filth spoiling the white rubber. "How?"_

_Lawrence didn't seem to see the point in keeping the truth from Lenny now in the face of his direct questioning. "Well… She decided she wants to be part of another family. A different family."_

_Lenny's childish petulance came through in his tone. "She might decide to come back, though."_

_"No, Lenny. I know you would like to think that." Lenny felt his father lean in closer and put his arm around his shoulder. "Look, it's not your fault, Leonard. Your mom has a lot of problems. She thinks starting over with a new life will make everything work out for her."_

_Something in his father's tone or his actions finally convinced Leonard that it was as final as Lawrence had been claiming all along. He couldn't help it. His face crumpled and he began to cry, the tears useless to wash away the pain._

Leonard arched his back, throwing his head back to tip the bottle further and get the dregs. He closed his eyes, dizzy, as he worked to unseal the second bottle.

_Eventually he had made the choice to return to working on that PhD—it barely seemed to matter, but it gave him something to think about other than grief and loss. At least, it was meant to. _

_"Leonard!" _

_He looked up, blinking. He'd sort of dimly registered his daughter's hands on his, but it wasn't until she called his name that he'd come out of it. "I'm talking, Daddy," she said. "You ignored me."_

_"I didn't mean to," he muttered. "What's wrong?"_

_"Nothing." Everything, she meant to say. He could tell._

_"Okay," he said. "I think I'm going to lie down. I'm sleepy."_

_She nodded and released him, and he slowly lowered himself on his side there on the couch. She watched him for a moment, then tenderly covered him with a blanket, tucking the edge of it below his chin. _

He looked at the bottle. Valerie. He hadn't arranged for her to spend the night elsewhere tonight.

And at this point, it hardly mattered. He frowned, eyes closing again.

_Neira didn't even send her son out of the room before she picked that final fight. She screamed obscenities and threw a punch that gave Lawrence a black eye. Then she rushed into the bedroom, grabbed her duffel bag, and stormed back through the house._

_"It's all your fault I'm leaving! You're an asshole and you're raising that fucking little punk to be just like you!"_

_And his mother made eye contact with him one last time—was that guilt he saw flash by under her mask of hatred?—before she ran down to the car that waited at the curb. Then it peeled away._

The heat of the drink was being transferred in his blood into anger. He sat up suddenly, his vision blurring into a haze of spots as his body swayed. He managed to right himself, and swigged another drink from his bottle of bourbon.

_Barbed words with his daughter, exchanged in the heat of anger. She seemed to know what to say to cut him at every turn. Caitlin was moving in, he had told her. She was vehement in her opposition to this plan. "You can't," she said. "She's not supposed to take Mom's place."_

_"You think I'm trying to replace her?" he said. "I am doing everything I can to honor her memory. That doesn't mean I can't move on at the same time."_

_"You don't honor her. You've forgotten her."_

_ That stopped him up short. He clenched his jaw. Was that what she thought? "You don't live inside my head, young lady."_

_She sneered at him. "Mom would hate you."_

He clenched the edge of the mattress with his fist, feeling a sensation that he may just rip the whole thing in two. There was a churning in his stomach that seemed prepared to burst forth violently under its own power. There were tears pouring down his cheeks; just where had they come from?

_It was so satisfying, realizing how his change of plans was going to fulfill everything he had hoped for, but Caitlin just didn't understand. She was far too angry at him to listen to what he had to say. He wasn't sure that he blamed her, really, not after the way he had neglected to arrive for the interview, after the way it had all come to pass. But it didn't change the way her words cut him._

_"I don't even know who you are!"_

Why had she thought they always had to work together, anyway? He didn't want to always be attached to her hip. Is that who she thought he had become? A pansy loser who always followed his girlfriend around like some kind of lapdog?

He stood up with the bottle, lurching forward in aggravation. All this drink and his throat was so dry…!

_Caitlin's eyes gazed into his accusingly. "You still love Allison too much to let her go. …When you fail, you'll realize what you lost when you pushed me away." _

_She turned her back on him, she who had been the most stable, faithful, committed woman who had ever come into his life. She had once loved him unconditionally, but now she was leaving._

_She stepped into the hallway and turned to give him one more piercing stare. "Goodbye, Leonard. I hope I never hear your name again."_

Damn it! He stumbled across the floor, searching for something of Caitlin's that he could throw, something of hers to destroy, but she had packed it all. Was it worth it to try to stumble out into the living room, to get into her moving boxes and find things to ruin there?

_The first time he witnessed it was a week after Allison's death. He'd been unable to give Val an answer to a simple question—he didn't remember what now, it was inconsequential really, but he couldn't expend the brain power to work out what he should say. "I don't know," he had muttered, and he looked at his own hands._

_"It's okay," Lawrence had said, taking Valerie by the shoulders and leading her away. "Why don't you go ahead and I'll talk to him."_

_Eventually his father had managed to convince him to stand and come to the door—again, he couldn't remember what he was doing there, but he did remember what he saw—Valerie running, running, running, like she wanted to be anywhere but here._

He stopped moving. He didn't know where he was going, or why. His muddled mind managed to register the location of the bed and he returned to fall on it in a stupor.

_His eyes were pleading with Allison's, but she just wouldn't look at him._

_"Promise me you'll be careful."_

_"I'll do what I was trained to do!"_

_Her hardened face, her hands wrenching out of his. And she walked away. Without another word. She walked away._

A knot had been building in his midsection, a tight feeling in his solar plexus, but the grief and pain jolted him then, causing him to clutch at his face as the sensation broke forth into a wretched howl. He rolled over, managing to bring the sound down to a plaintive whimper, and felt himself plunging deep into his guilt. There was one thing in common in those memories, and that thing was him. He had driven them all away. Every one.

* * *

**Music for this chapter:**

So Long, Goodbye - Sum 41  
_Leonard is ready for Caitlin to walk out the door after their final argument_

Talk Show Host - Radiohead  
_All the grief and the changes of the last years have crashed in on him and all he wants is escape_

Last Flowers - Radiohead  
_Leonard is desperate to get some silence in his head, but drinking only makes things worse_

The Death Of Me - City and Colour  
_Leonard learns to drink away his troubles, even though it really doesn't help_


	47. Chapter 47

Valerie awoke that following morning, so far as she knew, utterly alone in the apartment. Things had been strange that week, with Caitlin gone, and she had arrived home after dance the night before to a dark apartment. There had been no lights on anywhere. Maybe, she had thought, she should call Mahala's mother to come back, but instead she quietly went to her room and got dressed for bed and read.

She awoke early—though it was Saturday, the fact that she was on a strict schedule on the weekdays meant she usually didn't sleep in. She had never heard her father come home.

"Where are you?" she whispered. She got up, shoving her hair out of her face, and padded out into the hallway in her pajamas. The living room was visible from the hallway, and there was a man there, lifting up a box to place on a dolly—there was a row of boxes there near the entryway which she hadn't noticed in the dark, four across. She was bewildered for a moment but then Caitlin entered the apartment. She saw Valerie looking at her and didn't speak, merely retreated out of the apartment again.

"Wowwww," Valerie said to herself. She moved to the kitchen and poured herself some cereal and stood by, watching the man work as he lifted the boxes onto the dolly. Then the door closed and Caitlin's key card was nudged underneath it.

She put her bowl of cereal down on the table and let a little squeal come out, excitedly clenching her hands to her chest. "Bye-bye, bitch," she added, and did a little dance, hopping in place.

Maybe this explained why she hadn't seen her father yet. Her father's bedroom door was closed, and she hadn't checked it the night before, but this time she knocked and nudged it open.

"Phew," she huffed, fanning her hand in front of her face. It smelled like alcohol and vomit in there. Her father was lying on his stomach, face buried in a pillow, dressed in the pants he'd likely worn yesterday and his undershirt. There was a dress shirt crumpled in the top of the trash can and she had a feeling that was exactly where that belonged. She had seen her father drink before, of course, and she knew he binged now and then, but this—this was something else. He had never done anything like this when she would be around.

She approached the bed, looked at him for a moment, then set her hand on his shoulder, giving him a vigorous shake. "Dad," she said.

"Mmmmngh," he groaned, shrugging her off.

"Leonard," she said, deciding to try for firm. "You need a shower."

He grunted and turned slightly on his side, bringing his hand to his forehead. "Valerie," he managed to say, then groaned again. "Oh, mother of fuck."

"You don't have puke on you, do you?" she said. "Because if you do I am _not_ going to help you."

He cracked an eye open. "Nuh," he muttered, then dragged his hand down along his cheek. "Made it."

"Well, that's something." She sighed. "Okay, you need to sit up."

He made a sound like he might ask a question, if he didn't feel so shitty.

"Yes, you do," she said, guessing at what he'd been about to express. "I'm going to make you."

He rubbed his hand over his face and sluggishly turned the rest of the way on his side. "God, whyyy," he mumbled, then made an attempt at sitting up.

She watched him. He father with a hangover looked a lot like her father in the deepest throes of grief, she thought. The slow, uncontrolled manner of moving, the dull look on his face, the disconnect he seemed to have from his surroundings. Valerie wondered why he would even drink if it put him in that state. It seemed like the opposite of what someone would want.

Eventually he got into a sitting position, hunched over his knees, and she took his arm to sling it over her shoulders. "Come on," she said, hauling him to his feet. "You'll feel a lot better after a shower."

"How the hell would you know that?" he mumbled.

She paused in leading him before continuing. "I…don't. It's a theory."

"It's a hypothesis," he corrected.

"_Right_," she said. "And a hypothesis needs testing."

"Too small of a sample," he muttered.

"Well, I'm not going to get drunk, so we'll just have to go with your results." They reached the bathroom and she started to slip out from under his arm, causing him to grab on to the door jamb. He stood there for a long moment. "I can hold that for you, if you're afraid it'll get away," she finally said.

He bent his head, letting out a dry chuckle. "Thank you. That's just the problem."

"I knew it was." She came up behind him and took his elbow to support him and he stepped forward into the room. "All right, Dad, can you take it from here?"

"Mm," he affirmed, and she went out, closing the door. The first thing she needed to do was gather something for him to wear—she'd place it on the counter in there after he'd climbed in behind the curtain. Flannel pajamas would be nice, she figured, and it wasn't like they were going anywhere.

By the time he came out of the bathroom—which was quite a while later—she had looked up what to do for a hangover and learned water was the best cure. She set out a big glass of it and some pain pills on the table. "Hey, Dad," she said when he approached. "I wasn't sure you'd want anything to eat yet."

He looked better, for sure. His lids were still droopy and he still had a rather dull expression on his face, but he did look better. "No. Thank you." He took the pain pills and lingered beside the table, drinking his water.

"I thought we could watch a movie," she said. "We haven't seen the latest Dom Marconi film."

He looked at her for a moment, blinking. "I don't think we've seen the last two, actually."

"Oh, I saw the one before with Mahala," she said. "But I don't mind seeing it again. Do you want to?"

"Yeah…sure, yeah," he said. He seemed puzzled now but didn't make any further comment.

They settled in on the couch. She was…happy. This made her happy. Being with her father with the decided lack of Caitlin in their lives made her happy. Before Caitlin came along Leonard had been so caught up in his grief he barely had the energy to expend on anything else, and as soon as he started to pull out of it he got into a relationship with _her_. Valerie scooted back, put her feet on the edge of the couch, curling up, and leaned gently against him. He had put his water on the coffee table, and he reached for the glass to take a long swallow before sitting back again. Once he had he put his hand on her arm and patted it for a moment. Her father wasn't near as physically affectionate as she was, and she knew that, so she was satisfied with that.

On screen, an advance expedition of colonists on a foreign planet dealt with a native creature that reproduced by splitting off parasitic embryos. The series was supposed to be based on a true story, but Valerie had looked into it and learned the events in reality had been quite different. "This party was bigger in real life," she remarked.

"What was it, a rave?" he said.

She laughed, pleased. Her father, joking with her. When was the last time that had happened? "Yeah. They had to ration the glow sticks, though."

"They should have thought ahead," Leonard said.

"Ah, you know how it is on long trips," she said. "You always forget to pack your socks or something."

He clicked his tongue. "That's egregious, is what it is."

She bent her head to lean it on his shoulder. "Did you ever think of being a colonist?" she asked.

"No, I haven't," Leonard said. "Not many mobile research labs for working on smart AIs."

"It would be pretty interesting, I think," she said. Someone on screen screamed and she looked over in time to see a webbed injury burst out of the victim's skin, muscle spraying from the wound like a fountain of flesh as a parasite emerged from his shoulder. "Ew," she said. "They make those things look so realistic."

"This has to be an exaggeration," Leonard said.

She shuddered. "On that note, do you want breakfast now?"

He chuckled and nudged her shoulder. "This movie was your idea."

"I didn't think about this part," she said.

"I don't want to eat, but more water would be good," he said.

"You seem better," she remarked, standing.

"I'm mostly not thinking," he said ruefully. "The movie was a good idea."

She had meant his general state, not his reaction to Caitlin's departure, and she flattened her mouth with a bitter expression. "Luckily there's nothing to think about," she said.

The smile faded from his face. "Believe it or not, this situation does have an effect on me."

"You spend too much time thinking about things you can't help," she said. "Things turned to shit a long time ago."

"You never liked her," Leonard said.

"That's because she's a manipulative bitch," Valerie said, scowling. "We're better off."

"You made your mind up about her before you'd even met her," he said. He stood and grabbed his glass. "Luckily there's no point in me insisting you respect her at this point."

"Oh, God," Valerie said. "She's the one who broke up, isn't she?" She let out a disbelieving laugh. "Since when are you such a wimp?"

"That's _enough_, Valerie." He put the glass under the tap and turned the knob sharply, as though turning the water on full blast would express his irritation. "You'll understand when you're older."

She scoffed. "You're supposed to be the logical one. If someone isn't good for you anymore you break it off."

"Love isn't logical." He turned the water off and tipped the glass back to take a long drink.

"Ugh," she said. "I didn't even _like _her. I don't know how you could have felt that way about her."

He rested his hand on the edge of the sink, staring out the window. "Well, I did, at one point."

"But not anymore?" she asked.

He shook his head slightly, not turning his gaze in her direction. "No…not really. Not anymore." He lowered his hand from the sink and turned. "Listen, I think I better get some work done."

"You're always working. Come on, you can afford to spend a Saturday with me."

"I can't afford to waste time, Valerie," he said. "I have certain markers that need to be met."

"Oh come on. One day. Or even half of it." She reached for his hand. "Please?"

He kept his hand out of reach. "You're not eight years old, Valerie. You can't just say please and expect me to drop everything."

She looked at him, eyes narrowing, mouth hardening. She felt like she'd been slapped. "No. Fine, whatever." She crossed her arms and rubbed her elbow with her other hand. "I have things I could be doing, too."

"You have a desk in my office now," he said. "Feel free to move your stuff in whenever you want."

"Yeah, sure," she said. "I'm going out."

"Make sure to let me know if you decide to go to someone's house," he said. "I want to know where you are."

She sighed. "Yeah, I will."

"And be back in time for dinner," he said. "If I get a certain amount done, we might be able to finish the movie afterward."

"Really?" she said.

"Yes." He turned to fill the water glass to the top, since he'd drunk half of it, then started for the office.

She watched him. Maybe…maybe she'd surprise him by making dinner. Then he'd have more time to work and it would put him in a better mood.

But right now, now it was time for a run.


End file.
